REESE LIBRARY OF THK UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. Received^ Accessions No&&&&4£.~. Shelf No. LIBRARY Out /, £. 4 O>UL THE NATURALIST'S LIBRARY. EDITED BY SIB WILLIAM JABDINE, BABT,, F.R. S.E., F.L.S., ETC., ETC. VOL. XIV. ORNITHOLOGY. GALLINACEOUS BIRDS. BY THE EDITOR. EDINBUKGH: W. H. LIZARS, 3, ST. JAMES' SQUARE. LONDON : S. HIGHLEY, FLEET STREET ; T. NELSON, PATERNOSTER ROW. DUBLIN : W. CURRY, JUN. & CO. MANCHESTER: J. AINSWORTH, 93, PICCADILLY; AND ALL BOOKSELLERS. BIOLOGY LIBRARY G PRINTED BY W. H. LIZARS, EDINBURGH. CONTENTS. PAGE MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE . . . . . 17 Natural History of Gallinaceous Birds . . . 113 The Turkey. Meleagris gallopavo. Plate I. Male. — Plate II. Female and Young 117 The Ocellated Turkey. Meleagris ocellata. Plate 111 143 Genus PAVO 147 The Javanese Peacock. Pavomuticus. Plate IV 152 Genus POLYPLECTRON 155 Argus Polyplectron. Polyplectron bicalcaratum . . . . 156 The Crested Polyplectron. Polyplectron emphanum. Plate V. . . 159 The Thibetian Polyplectron. Polyplectron Tibetanus. Plate VI. . . 161 Long-tailed Polyplectron. Polyplectron chalcurum. Plate VII. . . 163 The Argus Pheasant, or Gigantic Argus. Argus giganteus. Plate VIII. . . . 165 CONTENTS. PAGE Genus GALLUS 170 Gigantic Cock. Gallus giganteus 171 Bankiva Cock. Gallus bankiva. Vignette Title . . . 175 The Bronzed Cock. Gallus aneus. Plate IX 183 The Fork-Tailed Cock. Gallus furcatus. Plate X 184 Sonnerat's Wild Cock. Gallus Sonneratii. Plate XI. Male. — XII. Female 186 Genus PHASIANUS 189 The Ring-Necked Pheasant. Phasianus torquatus. Plate XIII. . . 189 Diard's Pheasant. Phasianus versicolor. Plate XIV. Male. — XV. Female 200 The Barred-Tailed Pheasant. Pliasianus superbus. Plate XVI. . . . 202 Soammering's Pheasant. Phasianus Scemmeringn. Plate XVII. . . 205 Phasianus Staceii 206 The Silver Pheasant. Phasianus nycthemerus. Plate XVIII. . . 207 The Golden Pheasant. Phasianus pictus. Plate XVIII.* ... 209 Lady Amherst's Pheasant. Phasianus Amherstia 210 Genus EUPLOCOMUS 213 The Macartney Cock. Euplocomus ignitus. Plate XIX. Male. — XX. Female 214 CONTENTS. PAGE Pucras Pheasant. Euplocomus pucrasia. Plate XXI. . . 216 Genus LOPHOPHORUS ...... 218 Impeyan Lophophorus. LophopJiorus Impeyanus. Plate XXII. Male. —XXIII. Female .... 219 Genus TRAGOPAN 221 The Nepaul or Horned Tragopan. Tragopan satyrus. Plate XXIV. . . 222 The Golden-Breasted Tragopan. Tragopan Hastingii. Plate XXV. Male XXVI. Female 224 Black-Headed Tragopan. Tragopan melanocephalus. Plate XXVII. . 226 Genus NUMIDA 227 The Crested Guinea Fowl. Numida cristata. Plate XXVIII. . . 228 The Common Guinea Fowl. Numida meleagris. Plate XXIX. . . 229 POULTRY AND THE POULTRY YARD. Common or Barn-Door Fowl and Turkey . 233 Pea Fowl 246 Guinea Fowl 248 Domestic Water Fowl. Ducks 249 Geese 251 MEMOIR ARISTOTLE. MEMOIR AKISTOTLE MEMOIR.-GF-ARJSTOTLE. THERE are few names in the annals of antiquity, or in the wide circle of classic literature, more cele- brated than that of Aristotle. In an age which could boast of Demosthenes, Socrates, and Plato, and in a country distinguished beyond all others for the cultivation of knowledge, he bore away the palm of genius from every competitor ; and although there are many departments of science wherein his labours have been surpassed by those of modern philoso- phers, there are others in which his profound eru; dition, and his amazing intellectual exertions, remain hitherto unrivalled. His comprehensive mind em- braced every subject which then formed a part of scholastic study, or fell within the range of human contemplation. Accordingly, of all the ancient Greek writers, he is at once the most voluminous, diversified, and obscure. His works, like those of many other classic authors, have descended to us in a corrupted and mutilated shape ; and though now rather admired than read or understood, they still maintain the reputation of being an encyclopaedia of F MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. all that is curious or valuable in science and philo- sophy as they existed in Greece, when Greece, for learning and arts, was the most illustrious country in the world. At an early period of its history, the xvisdom of the East, including the dark traditions of Egypt and India, with their mythology, geometry, and astronomy, were imported by native travellers, whom the gratitude of their fellow-citizens dignified with the title of Sophi, or wise men, on account of their extraordinary pre-eminence in natural and mo- ral knowledge. For many centuries the vestal fires of this adopted literature continued to burn with in- creasing splendour in the schools of Athens, Corinth, and Megara, under a succession of able masters, most of whom were the founders of distinct sects, who adopted their name and opinions. At the time when Aristotle appeared, the prevailing sects were the Ionic, the Socratic, the Cyrenaic, the Megaric, the Academic, and the Peripatetic ; each of which had its partisans, and generally flourished or declin^ ed according to the celebrity of its teachers. About a century before the reign of Alexander, speculative philosophy had assumed a new and more systematic form ; many of its fanciful theories had been exploded ; a more rational method of instruc- tion was introduced, by treating the different sub» jects, whether in ethics, physics, or politics, under their proper subdivisions ; all of which were studied in the Grecian academies with a rivalry and enthu- siasm unparalleled perhaps in the history of civilized MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 19 nations. This improved philosophy was carried to its highest perfection hy Aristotle, in whose writings the doctrines of his predecessors and the learning of his age, were summed up and embodied as it were in- to one entire library. Of his indefatigable industry and extensive information, his copious remains, even in their abridged state, afford ample and honourable testimony ; and as for his talents, it would be disre- spectful to mankind, as Dr Reid well remarks, not to allow an uncommon share to a man who govern- ed the opinions of the most enlightened part of the species, for nearly two thousand years. Among his contemporaries he was regarded as " Nature's Se- cretary," the high priest of science, and the prince of philosophers. During the darker ages, his dogmas reigned in the universities of Christendom with un- disputed sway. His memory was worshipped with a veneration almost divine, insomuch that he has sometimes been placed by the side of the Apostle of Tarsus ; for our countryman Roger Bacon, in his Opus Majus, has said, that " he hath the same au- thority in philosophy, that St Paul hath in divinity." The age of superstitious reverence for categories and syllogisms has long passed away ; and the re- nowned Stagirite, like other writers, must be weigh- ed in the balance of his own merits, instead of be- ing measured by the standard of ignorant admiration. A line of demarcation can now easily and safely be «lrawn between those portions of his works that are still deserving of attention, and those which have 20 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. been superseded by the gradual advancement of the human mind in intellectual and physical knowledge. Before proceeding, however, to give an analysis of his writings, it will be proper to relate what has been recorded of his life and character. Several of his own countrymen discharged the friendly task due to his genius, by becoming his biographers ; but their memoirs, except a few fragments, have perish- ed in the general wreck of antiquity. Whatever is now known concerning this remarkable man, must be gleaned from the meagre and often contradictory notices to be found in the pages of Diogenes Laer- tius, Dionysius Halicarnassus, Hesychius the Mi- Jesian, Suidas, Ammonius, and a few others of more doubtful authenticity. Modern writers have not thrown much additional light on the subject, and their efforts have accomplished little more than at- tempting to reconcile what is discordant, or rejecting what is improbable, in the statements of the ancients. Aristotle was born at Stagira, a city and sea-port of Macedonia, about the beginning of the 99th Olym- piad, and 384 years before the Christian era. The place of his birth, which derives its chief celebrity from being associated with his name, and which, but for this fortunate accident, might have been blotted from the geography of Europe, was situated on the Strymonic Gulf, and long numbered among the Greek cities of Thrace ; but in the reign of Phi- lip it belonged to Macedon, as the conquests of that monarch had extended the name of his country far MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 21 beyond the river Strymon to the confines of Mount Rhodope. The town possessed a harbour with a small island, named Kapros ; and, like some of the neighbouring cities, enjoyed the precarious dignity of an independent government. In the Peloponne- sian war, it was the ally of Athens, and afterwards became subject to the commonwealth of Olynthus, which, in its turn, was attacked by Philip ; and, with all its dependencies, reduced by the arms or arts of that ambitious prince, in the first year of the 108th Olympiad. That the resistance of Stagira was obsti- nate, may be inferred from the severity of its pu- nishment, for the conqueror, as we learn from Plu- tarch, ordered it to be razed to the ground. The parentage of Aristotle was highly respectable. His father Nicomachus was descended in direct line from Machaon, whose skill in physic is celebrated by Homer, and who was son to JEsculapius, the companion of the Argonauts, exalted after his death to a place among the gods as the tutelary deity of the healing art. Nicomachus followed the profes- sion of his father and his ancestors, and even im- proved that branch of hereditary knowledge, by writing six books on medicine, and one on natural philosophy. He was the physician and friend of Amyntas, King of Macedon, who held him in pecu- liar esteem. The circumstance of this medical pe- digree has led one writer, Tzetzes, to allege that Aris- totle was called an JEsculapian figuratively, and not by descent ; but there seems no reason to call in question the common account of his genealogy. His 22 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. mother, whose name was Phsestis, some have traced to the same illustrious origin as her husband ; but whatever was her extraction, her acknowledged country was Eubcea, or Chalcidica, her father, as Dionysius Halicarnassus asserts, being one of the colony which was sent from Chalcis to Stagira* It was the misfortune of Aristotle to lose his parents at a veiy early age, a fact that Dr Reid seems to have overlooked when he mentions his being brought up at the Court of Macedon, as among the " many uncommon advantages" which he enjoyed. At what precise period that event happened, or what pro- gress he had then made in his education, it is now impossible to ascertain ; but, as one of his modem oiographers has remarked, it is an agreeable, and not altogether an unwarranted, conjecture, that his father had inspired him with a taste for his own pro- fession, and especially with that ardent love for the study of Nature, which made him long be regarded as her best and chosen interpreter ; while from his mother he imbibed that attic elegance and purity which everywhere pervades his writings. His gra- titude and affection to her he displayed, by causing her picture to be drawn by Protogenes, an eminent painter of that time, which Pliny reckoned as among the choicest pieces of that master. The early loss of his parents was supplied and compensated by the kind attentions of Proxenus, a * It appears from Laerthw, that Aristotle had two bro- thers, Arimnestus and Arimnestes, and a sister called Hero. MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 23 citizen of Atarna, in Mysia, who received the young philosopher into his family, and skilfully directed his education. These important services the grateful pupil afterwards requited. Statues were erected at his expense in honour of Proxenus and his wife; their child Nicanor he adopted as his own son, and by his will left him a handsome property. On the death of his benefactor, Aristotle remov- ed to Athens, being then in his seventeenth year. There is some difference of opinion as to his pursuits and mode of life at this period, and also as to the cause of his enrolling himself a student of the Aca- demy. Athenseus and ^Elian relate that, having Wasted the inheritance left him by his father in pro- digality and luxury, he adopted a military life ; that, failing of success, he had recourse to the selling of drugs, in which capacity, it is alleged, he visited Athens, where he accidentally entered the school of Plato, and being charmed with his wisdom, determined to become a disciple of that renowned teacher. This account, however, considering the tender years of Aristotle, is altogether improbable ; nor does it accord with the circumstances of his his- tory, as narrated by authors of unimpeachable credit. Equally erroneous is the assertion, that he was for three years the scholar of Socrates, since the latter died at least eight years before the Stagirite was born. The story of his being led to study philosophy in obedience to the advice of the Pythian oracle, must be classed among the fictions of a credulous age* 24 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. A sufficient reason for his resorting to the Academy, may be found in the celebrity of Plato, whose school at that time was the most famous in the world, and long continued to be the centre of attraction for all the learning and genius of Greece. The master was not slow to discover and appreciate the extraordinary talents of his pupil. He admired his acuteness of apprehension, and often applauded his unwearied ap- plication to study. In compliment to his superior abilities, he called him the " soul of his school ;" and when he happened to be absent, he used to com- plain that his lectures were addressed to a " deaf audience/' His industry in perusing and copying manuscripts, was unexampled and almost incredible. From this circumstance he was called, by way of eminence, the " student," and his house was styled the " house of the great reader." As he advanced in years, his penetration was as remarkable in.cjm- vasaing opinions, as his diligence had been unrivalled in collecting them. His capacious mind, we are told, embraced the whole circle of science ; and not- withstanding his pertinacity in rejecting every prin- ciple or tenet which he could not on reflection ap- prove, his singular merits failed not to secure the love and admiration of his venerable instructor, with whom he continued to reside for twenty years, until their friendship was dissolved by the death of the latter. Such was his eagerness in the acquisition of knowledge, that he devoted to it the best part of his life, — alike careless of the honours and emoluments of a court, MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. which the rank and connexion of his famil have procured him in Macedon ; and indifferent To the high distinction which his splendid abilities might easily have attained, by establishing a sepa- rate school, and founding a new sect in philosophy. It has been alleged, indeed, that various circum- stances occurred to interrupt the harmonious inti- macy between him and his master. Some have af- firmed that he offended the gravity of Plato by his foppery in dress, and his excessive fondness for os- tentatious ornament. His mantle was gaudy ; he wore sandals of rich materials, and rings of great value on his fingers ; his head and chin were closely cropped, contrary to the rule or the fashion of the Academy, which required the hair and beard of its disciples to be worn of their natural length. These may appear trivial causes of virtuous indig* nation ; but when we reflect, that, in ancient times, the shagginess of the human countenance was not only an indispensable requisite, but the legal standard for ascertaining the depth of wisdom and learning, such a contempt for scholastic usages must have subjected the offender to the reproach and resent- ment of his contemporaries. This imputed love of finery, however, was only assumed, perhaps, to con- ceal the defects of his figure, as his stature was short, and his limbs disproportionably slender. Certain it is, that his anxiety to adorn his person abated no- thing of his assiduity in the embellishment of his mind. His attention to dress (probably much exag- 26 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. gerated by his enemies) was in him merely an ac- cessory which neither altered his character, nor weakened that ardent desire for knowledge, which, even in the vigour of manhood, and amidst the gaieties of Athens, continued to he the master pas- sion of his soul. There are other reasons of discord stated by Laertius, who says, that Plato disliked the scornful derision of his looks, and could not endure his impertinent contradiction of his prelections ; on which account his friendship was withdrawn, and transferred to more submissive pupils. The repu- diated favourite, he adds, opened a school in the LycaBum, in opposition to his master ; at which the indignant sage severely remarked, that his ungrate- ful disciple resembled " the young foals that kicked their dams when they had sucked their fill;" and, from this circumstance, Aristotle was usually called the Colt. These charges, however, are generally ad- mitted to have been malicious aspersions cast upon his memory, and invented after his death. Their origin is ascribed to Aristoxenus, who took this me- thod of revenge, because Aristotle refused to make him successor in his school, having given the pre- ference to Theophrastus. That he contradicted Plato, and perplexed him with ingenious sophistries, is highly probable, considering the boldness with which he determines questions beyond the reach of human intellect ; but, as Ammonius observes, this is nothing wonderful, since Plato frequently contradicts himself. As for the assertion, that he was guilty of MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 27 ingratitude to his instructor, by commencing to teach in opposition to him, it is altogether unfounded. Nothing is more unlikely than that he would have ventured on such a perilous step, at a time when the power of Chabrias and Timotheus, Plato's kinsmen, was almost absolute at Athens. We have the evi- dence of his own epistle to Philip, that he was a constant and sedulous hearer of this great philoso- pher as long as he lived. In his writings he makes honourable mention of him ; and, after his death, he erected, in testimony of his unchanged affection, an altar bearing an inscription which maybe thus trans- lated : 44 This sacred shrine to Plato's name is rear'd, Which grateful Aristotle long rever'd! Far hence, ye vulgar ! nor presume to stain With impious praise, this consecrated fane/' Olympiodorus mentions, that he composed a whole discourse in his commendation ; and, in his Elegies to Eudemus, he extols him in language as affection- ate as it is complimentary. " And, coming to the famed Cecropian town, In sign of friendship did an altar raise To him whom none with lips profane dare praise ; Who erring man to virtue did restore, Much by his precepts, by example more. A sage so pious, loved of gods and men, No future age must hope to see again." These and other affectionate tokens of regard to the memory of his master, afford a presumption, amounting almost to certainty, that there is no truth 28 MEMOIR OP ARISTOTLE. in the assertion that he gave offence to Plato by his effeminate dress and impertinent loquacity, or that he drove him from the Academy in his old age, and took possession of his chair, until he was himself expelled by Xenocrates. Plato died in the first year of the 108th Olympiad, and 338 before the Christian era, at the age of 81. Whether the venerable philosopher cherished a reci- procal esteem for his illustrious pupil, is doubted by some, who have alleged that he was jealous of his rising talents, and afraid lest his own celebrity should be eclipsed by that of a rival. In corroboration of this supposition, it has been observed that he no- where mentions him in his writings; and that, at his death, he did not appoint him his successor in the Academy, although confessedly the most distinguish- ed of all his scholars in learning and talents, but no- minated Speusippus to that situation, — a man far his inferior in abilities, temper, and moral character. It does not appear, however, that these allegations are better founded than the charges of his avowed detractors, already referred to. Speusippus was the nephew of Plato, being the son of his sister Po- tona ; his preference to Aristotle was therefore na- tural ; nor is there the slightest evidence that the Stagirite took offence that, in this appointment, the strong claim of merit should have been sacrificed to the partial feelings of consanguinity. On the con- trary, the altars and verses consecrated to his memory, evince that his attachment to his teacher had suffer- MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 29 ed no diminution ; and in some of his latest writings, he speaks of him with a degree of admiration ap- proaching to reverence. The demise of his master gave Aristotle an op- portunity of founding a separate school, but why he neglected to avail himself of it, or why he chose to abandon the scene of his studies, can only be mat- ter of conjecture. Perhaps the connections which he had formed with some of the most eminent, as well as the most extraordinary, personages of his own or any age, might have inspired him with the design of leaving Athens, after he had lost the phi- losopher and friend whose reputation had first drawn him thither, and whose instructive society had so long retained him in that celebrated capital. Among his condisciples at the Academy, was a eunuch named Hermias, with whom he maintained a close and uninterrupted correspondence, and whose history forcibly illustrates the capricious vicissitudes of fortune. He was originally the slave of Eubulus, a ' prince and philosopher of Bithynia ; but his spirit was unbroken by servitude, and he possessed a mind far above the humble condition of his birth. Through the bounty of his indulgent patron, he was enabled early to gratify his natural taste for learning, by re- sorting to Athens, where he formed an acquaintance with the young Stagirite, which soon united them in the bonds of mutual esteem, and finally settled down into a cordial and unalterable friendship. But the calm retreats of science were abandoned for the 80 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE* more dangerous pursuits of ambition. His enter* prising courage, seconded by good fortune, raised him to the sovereignty of two Greek cities of Mysia, Assus and Atarna, the former lying in the district of Troas, the latter in that of ^olis; and both of them, like most Grecian colonies on the Asiatic coast, but loosely dependent on the Persian empire. His suc- cessful boldness in usurping the sceptre, was only equalled by the manly firmness with which he held it ; and as the armies of Artaxerxes were distant, he found little difficulty in maintaining peaceful posses- sion of it* for a time. It was upon the invitation of his now royal friend and companion, that Aristotle, immediately after the death of Plato, repaired to Atarna ; and his resolu- tion was probably influenced by the fond desire of revisiting the spot where he had spent the happy years of his youth, under the kind protection of Proxenus. In that city he found the wish of Plato realized ; he beheld in his friend Hermias philoso- phy seated on a throne. With him he resided near- ly three years, receiving the warmest testimonies of love and respect, and enjoying the inexpressible pleasure of seeing his own enlightened political maxims exemplified in the virtuous reign of his fel- low-student. But the seat of the usurper is gene- rally insecure, and so it proved with Hermias. Ar- taxerxes having subdued the rebels in Egypt, deter- mined to restore to his dominion the dismembered cities of Mysia. Mentor, a General whose zeal and MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 31 valour are recorded in the Persian annals, was em- ployed as the fittest instrument for accomplishing the task. This apostate and unprincipled Greek was numbered among the friends of Hermias, and con- nected with him by the sacred ties of hospitality ; but the breast of a renegade and traitor is alike in- sensible to the feelings of honour and the obligations of gratitude. His former intimacy was made the means of facilitating the cruel stratagem. The unwary prince was decoyed to an interview, where he was seized by Mentor in person, and sent privately to Upper Asia, until an order arrived from Artaxerxes for his execution. The base artifices of the betrayer ended not with this atrocity. Having possessed himself of the ring which Hermias usually employed as his signet, he sealed with it despatches to the dif- ferent cities that acknowledged his authority ; and by this false key their gates were opened without suspicion to the Persian soldiers. The perfidy of Mentor, which thus insidiously compassed the ruin and death of his friend, Aristotle has himself branded with deserved infamy, when, in one of his treatises, he contrasts the dexterity of this successful knave with the real virtue of prudence. His gratitude to this generous benefactor he celebrated in verse, by writing a hymn to his praise, and erecting a statue to his memory, in the Temple at Delphi, which bore an inscription, in allusion to the disreputable means by which he was cut off. 82 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. This man by hands dishonourable slain, The faithless Persian king his victim made ; Not as the hero falls on battle plain, But under friendship's hollow mask betrayed. There were certain detractors who attempted to give his virtuous friendship for Hermias the colouring of a criminal attachment ; but their reports obtained little credit at the time, and are now discarded as notorious calumnies. Theocritus of Chios, a Greek historian who wrote an account of Libya, carried his obloquy so far, as to satirise both his moral character, and his public testimonial to Hermias, in a severe epigram, thus rendered : An empty shrine to Eubulus's slave The amorous eunuch — Aristotle gave, Himself as empty ; who, from brute desire, Forsook the school for pleasure's filthy mire. These scandalous imputations were answered by Apellicon, a philosopher of Teios, who wrote several books on purpose, wherein he elaborately confutes those who dared, in this manner (as he expresses it) " to blaspheme the name of so great a man." The moderate policy which Mentor, in his first transactions at Atarna, found it necessary to assume, enabled Aristotle to avoid the punishment which naturally overtook the ambition of his friend. By a timely flight he escaped to Mitylene, in the island of Lesbos, in company with Pythias, the kinswoman and adopted daughter of Hermias, whom that prince MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 33 had educated, and destined to become the heiress of his fortunes. Her expectations were now miserably reduced ; but this sad reverse endeared her the more to Aristotle, who espoused his fair companion, for whom he entertained a sincere attachment. He was then in his thirty-seventh year, which is pre- cisely the age recommended by himself as the fittest on the male side for entering into wedlock. The lady did not long survive her marriage, but she left an iufant daughter whom the father named after a wife tenderly beloved, and who repaid his affection with the most tender sensibility. It is mentioned by Diogenes Laertius, as her last request, that when her husband should die (which might the fates Ions; avert ! ) her own ashes were to be disinterred, and enclosed with his in the same monument. Aristotle passed but a short time in the Island of Lesbos, his celebrity being now too well known to allow him much leisure for the indulgence either of love or melancholy. His father's name and his own were familiar at the court of Macedon ; and, during his residence in Athens, he had strengthened his hereditary friendship with Philip, a prince only one year younger than himself, who, having lived from the age of fifteen to twenty-two in Thebes, and the •leitrhbouring cities, had ascended the throne of hi* ancestors in the twenty-third year of his age. This cm urn stance of itself may account for the applica- tion which that monarch made to Aristotle, to im dertake the education of his son Alexander, who. 34 MEMOIR OP ARISTOTLE. even from his boyhood, had given symptoms of thosd extraordinary talents which have made bis actions as a conqueror so familiar to posterity. It has been al- leged, on the authority of Laertius, that, while a stu- dent at the Academy, he had been sent by the Athenians on an embassy to Philip, to implore his forbearance in behalf of the Grecian cities, which he then threatened to subject to the yoke of his military despotism ; and that, having succeeded in his mis- sion, his grateful fellow- citizens decreed his statue to be placed in the Acropolis, as a benefactor to the Republic. It is more than probable, however, that these statements have arisen from a slight anachronism, and that the Athenians had used his influence with Philip to spare their freedom, not before but after he had become an inmate of his family. This cir- cumstance may have occasioned the erection of a statue to his memory, in remembrance of the services which he then rendered the State. It was in the fifth year of his father's reign that Alexander was born. Several tutors or preceptors had been employed in training his infant mind, at the head of whom was Leonidas, a kinsman of the queen. But Philip early perceived, that the educa- tion of his son was a matter of too great importance to be entrusted to ordinary masters. Music, dan- cing, and such-like accomplishments, he found to be unsuitable to his genius, which, as Sophocles has said, required a The rudder's guidance, and the curb's restraint.** MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. dD Accordingly, he addressed himself to Aristotle, in a, letter as flattering to his literary fame as was the compliment paid by Queen Elizabeth to Sir Isaac Newton. This epistle is recorded by Agellius in, the following terms : " PHILIP to ARISTOTLE — Health. — Know that I have a son. I render the gods many thanks, not so much for his birth, as that he was born at the time when Aristotle lives ; for I am assured that, if edu- cated and instructed by you, he will become worthy1 of us, and worthy of the kingdom which he inherits." In compliance with this kingly request, Aristotle set sail from Lesbos, and escaping the danger of the Athenian fleet, then at war with Macedon, he ar- rived at Pella, to undertake one of the few employ- ments not unworthy of a philosopher qualified to in- struct and benefit the latest ages of the world. In the tuition of his illustrious pupil, he spent about eight years, during which long period, in an office replete with difficulty and delicacy, he had the rare honour of giving the highest satisfaction to the royal parents, while he excited in the breast of their son feelings of the warmest gratitude. He was treated, both by Philip and his proud queen Olympias, with every mark of distinction that greatness could bestow on acknowledged merit. He was admitted to an ex- tensive share in the government, and allowed a voice in the counsels of his sovereign, where his advice was often useful, and always acceptable. On these occasions he was not slack to exert his kind inter* 36 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. ce3sions in Behalf of his friends and countrymen whenever his interest could be of service. The misfor- tunes, which, in the progress of Macedonian con- quest, had befallen his native city Stagira, gave him an opportunity of shewing the strength of his attachment to the place of his birth. Although he had not resided there, and appears scarcely to have visited it for the long period of thirty years, yet, through his representations at the Court of Pella, the town was entirely rebuilt, its walls and ornamental edifices were restored, and its wandering citizens collected and reinstated in their former possessions. He himself supplied them with a code of wise laws for the regulation of their government ; nor were the inhabitants on their part ungrateful for the generosity of their sovereign, and the patriotism of their fellow townsman. To commemorate the event, they insti- tuted annual festivals called Aristotelaea, and gave the name of Stagirites to the month in which they were celebrated. Authors have recorded other examples of his exertions, in having, amidst the devastations of war, extended the patronage and secured the protec- tion of science. We learn from Plutarch, that Philip, in testimony of the satisfactory manner in which he fulfilled his engagements as preceptor to his son, as- signed him a school and a study, called the Nym- phaeum, at the neighbouring town of Mieza, where, .ong after his death, the shady walks and stone benches were pointed out still bearing his name. The same biographer mentions that Alexander, in reverence for MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 37 the sentiments with which his master had inspired him, spared the house of Pindar in the sack of Thebes ; and that, in his expedition against the Per- sians, the town of Eressus in Lesbos was exempted from the fate of other conquered cities, because it was the birth-place of Theophrastus and Phasias, two of Aristotle's disciples. Alexander was in his sixteenth year when he was placed under the tuition of the Stagirite, the most in- teresting period of life for moulding and confirming the future character of the man. In training such a youth, he had a rich field to cultivate, although the precocity of his intellect had in some degree out- stript the unripeness of his years, and thus made it difficult for an instructor, however skilful, to alter or eradicate impressions which had almost settled down into fixed principles. The ambition of Alexander had early taken root, and the peculiarities of his ge- nius had already manifested themselves in certain public and very important transactions at his father's court. When his lofty notions of conquest and his premature love of aggrandisement are taken into ac- count, it may well be supposed that these juvenile passions would sometimes prove too headstrong to be governed or restrained by the voice of reason, speaking even from the mouth of an admired philo- sopher. Although many shared in the love and esteem of the youthful prince, Aristotle is the only one of his friends whose superior genius he appear*. unceasingly to have viewed with undiminished ad- 38 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. miration, and whom he seems to have treated through life with uniform and unchanged respect. The branches of knowledge to which his attention was first directed, were poetry, ethics, and politics. Science and philosophy were not the only studies in which Aristotle excelled ; he was addicted to the muses, and while he favoured the world with criti- cisms on the works of others, he was himself the au- thor of productions that ranked him a poet of the first eminence. Few of his verses, indeed, have reached modern times, but the few that remain prove him worthy of sounding the lyre of Pindar ; and it is not the least singularity attending this extraordi- nary man, that with the nicest and most subtle powem of discrimination and analysis, he united a vigorous and rich vein of poetic fancy. In his writings he frequently cites the bards of Greece, especially Homer. This taste he imparted to his pupil, for whose use he prepared a correct edition of the Iliad, which obtained the name of the casket copy> from the circumstance of its being enclosed in a rich cas- ket, found after the siege of Gaza among the spoils of Darius, in which that unfortunate monarch is said to have kept his perfumed ointments. This edition he constantly carried about with him in his wars, re- garding it as " a portable treasure of military know- ledge," and every night it was laid with his dagger under his pillow. It is not improbable that the poe- tical prelections of his master, and his admiration for the verses of Homer, might tend to inflame that na- MEMOIR OP ARISTOTLE. 39 tural love of military glory which afterwards carried him over the finest regions of the East, and taught oim to weep for want of more worlds to conquer.* But the bard of Troy was not his only companion in these foreign expeditions. Plutarch says, that as he could find no books in the upper provinces of Asia, he wrote to Harpalus, and obtained most of the trage- dies of Euripides, Sophocles, and ^Escliylus, with the Dithyrambics of Telestus and Philoxenus. The same^ author alleges that Aristotle taught him the art of medicine, a study with which he was not only ex- ceedingly delighted in theory, but which he prac- tised with considerable success among his friends. That ethics and politics formed a prominent and most important ingredient in the education of the juvenile prince, is obvious from the writings which the Stagirite devoted to the subject. He addressed to his pupil, long after this period, a Treatise on Go- vernment, instructing him how to reign, and exhort^ ing him to adjust the measure of his authority to the particular characters, habits, and modes of thinking, of the various classes of his subjects, according to a maxim which he frequently inculcated, that different nations require different modes of administration. In his treatise on politics, he has carefully delineated the plan of education best adapted to persons of the * Plutarch says, that as soon as Alexander landed in Asia, he visited Ilium, and offered libations to the Trojan heroes. He anointed the pillar on the tomb of Achilles with oil, and ran round it naked, after which he put a crown upon it, exclaiming how happy that hero was in having a Hornet to record his praise* 40 jdEMOIR OP ARISTOTLE. highest rank in society ; and this plan we may sup- pose he put in operation in performing the tank as- signed him by Philip ; modified no douht according to the character and circumstances of the extraordi- nary youth for whose instruction it was prepared. According to the principles laid down in that book, the two years immediately following puberty consti- tute that important era which is especially adapted for improving and strengthening the bodily frame, and for acquiring that corporeal vigour which is one main- spring of mental energy. During this interest- ing period, with the proper management of which the future happiness of the whole life is so connerteo. Aristotle observes, that the intellectual powers ought indeed to be kept in play, but not too strenuously exercised, since powerful exertions of the mind and body cannot be made at once, nor the habits of making them be simultaneously acquired. Agreeably to this principle, Alexander was encouraged to pro- ceed with alacrity in his exercises until he attained the highest possible degree of perfection in them ; after Which the whole bent of his mind was diverted to the acquisition of science and philosophy. The curiosity of the young Macedonian was too ar- dent, and his judgment too acute, to rest satisfied with the meagre and superficial doctrines which then com- prised the sum of popular instruction. The discern- ment of his preceptor easily perceived that his mind was capable of being trained to whatever is most subtle in distinction, and exalted by whatever is most lofty in speculation ; and that his faculties, by thus expanding MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 41 and invigorating amidst objects of the highest intel- lectual pursuits, might thereby learn the more readily and the more perfectly to comprehend ordinary mat- ters. This recondite philosophy, which Aristotle first delivered to his royal pupil, and afterwards to his hearers in the Lycseum at Athens, received the epithet of Acroatic, to distinguish those parts of his lectures which were confined to a select audience, from such as were delivered to the public at large, and these were called Exoteric. This technical di- vision of the writings of the Stagirite, has given rise to a variety of different opinions and disputes. Some have imagined that in the two kinds of prelections just noticed, he maintained contrary doctrines on the sub- jects of religion and morality. But the fact is quite the reverse ; his practical tenets being uniformly the same in both. His Exoteric or popular Treatises, nearly resembled the philosophical dialogues of Plato or Cicero ; while his Acroatic writings, contained in a concise energetic style peculiar to himself, those deep and broad principles on which all science is built ; and, independently of which, the most perverse rea- sonings, and the most intricate combinations, are but matters of common mechanical practice.* The sublimity of this abstract and recondite philo- sophy, accorded exactly with the loftiness of Alexan- der's mind. Amidst the tumult and bustle of distant war, he considered it a source of pride to have made an acquisition which was then denied to the vulgar ; * Dr Gfllies'a Analysis of Aristotle's Ethics and Politici. 42 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. and when these writings were given to the world, he remonstrated with his master for having given others an opportunity of becoming as learned as himself. A correspondence on this subject has been preserved by Plutarch, who records the following letter written soon after the battle of Guagamela or Arbela, and while the youthful hero was in full pursuit of Darius. " ALEXANDER to ARISTOTLE — Health — You have not done right in publishing your Acroatic dis- courses, for wherein shall we be distinguished above others, if the learning in which we have been instruct- ed be made common to all ? As for me, I would rather excel other men in knowledge than in power. — Farewell." In his reply, Aristotle rested his apology on the abstruse nature of the subjects, and the impossibility of comprehending them without the aid of verbal il- mstration. " ARISTOTLE to ALEXANDER — Health. — You wrote to me concerning my Acroatic works, that they ought not to have been communicated, but kept secret. Know then, that though published, they are not made public, since none can fully understand them, except those who have heard my lectures. — Farewell." From this it would appear that the Stagirite con- sidered these writings merely as text-books or out- lines of his course ; and we may infer that the true cause of secrecy was the nature of the speculative doctrines inculcated in them. That he had taught his pupil a purer theology than that of the age and MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 48 country in which he lived, may be assumed, from the fact, that, in the midst of his brilliant victories and unexampled conquests, he reminded him of the supe- riority of religious excellence to worldly greatness ; concluding an epistle to him with this memorable ad- monition, " that those who entertain just notions of the Deity, are better entitled to be high-minded than those who subdue kingdoms." Persecution for avow- ing opinions differing from those of the national creed, was not then uncommon in Greece ; and had the royal preceptor ventured to maintain the unity and perfection of God in plain and popular language, he must have exposed himself to the tragical fate that overtook Socrates. It has been asserted by authors even so recent as Brucker, that for sordid and selfish purposes Aristotle accommodated the tenets of his philosophy to the base morals of courts ; but his ethical writings which still remain, and which are the most practically useful of any that Pagan antiquity can boast, are an ample refutation of a calumny, which must be ranked as another " weak invention of the enemy." So sen- sible was Alexander of the benefits derived from his instructions, that he considered them more valuable than the advantages he inherited from his father, be- cause, as he used to remark, the one gave him life, but the other had taught him to live well. " I have not reigned to-day," is said to have been his ordinary reflection, if a single day had passed without his do- ing some worthy or benevolent action. Upon the 44 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. whole, it may be safely asserted, that if this extraor- dinary prince, with all his faults, was distinguished beyond others for the love of knowledge and virtue, he was mainly indebted for this superiority to the lessons of his teacher. The seeds of his haughtiness and ambition were planted before Aristotle was in- vited to take the direction of his education. The passion for war, — the infirmity of noble minds, — could neither be restrained nor moderated ; but to counter- act that overruling propensity, his breast was inspired with still more pure and exalted sentiments, which placed him as far above the other conquerors of an- tiquity, as they were themselves distinguished beyond the common herd of mankind. If his loftiness could not be subdued, it was made to combat as much as possible upon the side of virtue ; his excellencies, therefore, may fairly be ascribed to Aristotle, — his defects to nature, and the example of a court, — his misfortunes to himself, and the intoxicating effects of unbounded prosperity. At the age of twenty, Alexander succeeded to a kingdom torn in pieces by dangerous factions and implacable animosities. In a short time events cail- ed him to a distant scene of action ; and, after an affectionate intimacy of eight years, the pupil and the preceptor separated for ever, to pursue, in a ca- reer of almost equal duration, the most opposite paths to the same immortal renown: — the one by his victorious arms — the other by the gentle wea- pons of philosophy; — the one by gratifying the most MEMOIR OP ARISTOTLE. 45 immoderate lust of power — the other by teaching to despise this and all similar gratifications. When the one set out on his eastern expedition, the triumphs of which terminated in the course of ten years by his premature death, the other quitted the capital of Macedon, and returned to his beloved Athens, where he spent the remainder of his life (about thirteen years), instructing his disciples, and cultivating, with unabated diligence, the various branches of learning. It has been said that he ac- companied the conqueror in his Asiatic wars ; that he travelled with him over all Persia as far as the land of the Brahmins (India), where he wrote a work on the laws and institutions of two hundred and fifty -five cities ; but this journey is a pure fabri- cation, and we therefore dismiss it without further comment. One circumstance may here be mentioned, as it is the only one that seems to have occasioned any suspicion or dislike between them. On leaving i Alexander, Aristotle, preferring a life of study and retirement, recommended, as a person worthy of ac- companying him in his Persian expedition, his own disciple and nephew Callisthenes, (son of Hero,) a learned man, but of a morose unaccommodating temper, unguarded in his speech, and obstinately attached to the old system of republicanism which Philip had overturned in Greece. His kinsman was aware of his faults, and having observed the unsea- sonable freedom with which he spoke to the king, lie admonished him in a verse of Homer, " that his 46 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. unbridled tongue might shorten his days/* The prophecy was literally fulfilled. Callisthenes, for- getting the advice of Arrian, that the attendant of a prince ought never to be wanting in due deference to his will, rudely and outrageously opposed Alex- ander's resolution of exacting the same marks of homage and prostration from the Greeks which were paid to him by the Persians. It is also said he had joined a conspiracy against the life of his sovereign ; having taken great offence that Hermolaus, a noble youth who had studied philosophy under him, should have been severely punished with stripes, for having dared at a hunting-match to throw the first dart at a wild boar in the royal presence. The conspira- tors, it is added, were all stoned to death ; the plot being discovered by one of their own number. The punishment and fate of Callisthenes, whether his treachery was real or imaginary, is related more variously than almost any historical event of such pub- lic notoriety ; some asserting that he perished in a dungeon, after being mutilated of his ears, nose, and limbs ; and others that he was carried about in an iron cage, a miserable spectacle, covered with filth and vermin, and at last devoured by a hungry lion* Whatever might have been the manner of his death, most writers concur in opinion, that he met with the just reward of his rashness and arrogance. This transaction is alleged to have much estranged the affections of Alexander from his favourite preceptor The assertion, however, is not accompanied with MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. any solid proof; and the absurd calumny that he not only regarded this pretended displeasure as an in-* jury, but even proceeded the length of joining in a conspiracy to poison the king, is warranted by no-* thing in history, except a report preserved in Plu« larch, of a vague and hasty expression in a letter of Alexander to Antipater, " I will punish the sophist (Callisthenes)and those who sent him." The friend- ly epistles addressed by him while in Asia to hif former instructor, contradict the supposition of any irritation or enmity between them. Leaving the " Macedonian madman" to pursue his conquests in the east, we must now return to the personal history of the Stagirite. On arriving at Athens, he found Xenocrates teaching in the school of Plato, his predecessor Speusippus having been dead four years. The character of Xenocra- tes was that of dull gravity and rigid austerity. He had been a fellow-student with Aristotle at the Aca- demy, where the striking contrast of their genius ' did not escape the notice of Plato, who used to ex- claim, " What a horse arid an ass have I to yoke to- gether; Xenocrates requires the spur, Aristotle the curb ;" alluding to the obtuseness of the one and the acuteness of the other. The circumstance of such a man having been exalted to the supreme chair of philosophy, is said to have determined the Stagirite to open a school on his own account ; re- marking, " that it would be disgraceful for him to be silent while Xenocrates publicly taught." This 48 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. observation some have thought to savour too much of anogance and self-conceit to have been made by Aristotle ; but whether it was ever uttered or not, his success soon demonstrated that he had not rated t.is scholastic talents too high. The Academy be- ing in the possession of his friend, he made choice of the Lycaeum, a place which Pericles had prepared for the exercising of his soldiers, and which lay in the immediate suburbs of Athens, on the banks of the Ilissus. It was well shaded with trees, and adorned with a temple of the Lyciati Apollo. Here he established a gymnasium, where he taught philo- sophy to such as had an inclination to hear his dis- courses. It was his custom to teach walking con- stantly every day along the shady avenue (or Peri" paton) of the temple, until the hour of anointing, which the Greeks generally performed before meals ; and from this habit his scholars and his philosophy derived the name of Peripatetic. His Acroatic lec- tures were given in the morning to those who were his regular pupils. A considerable part of them is gtill preserved in his works, which form an abstract or syllabus of treatises on the most important branches of speculative science. His Exoteric discourses were held tfter supper (always an early meal with the ancients), at which occasional visitors were admit- ted. They constituted the amusement of his even- ing walks ; for he thought exercise peculiarly useful after eating, for animating and invigorating the na- tural heat and strength, which the too rapid succes- MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 49 sion of sleep and food seemed fitted t.o relax and impede. By degrees the number of his auditors increased so much, that he was obliged to desist from walk- ing, and deliver his prelections sitting. The cele- brity of the teacher speedily conferred a renown on the Lycaeum, which eclipsed that of its rival, and which has made the very name famous to all poste- rity. Among his friends and disciples at this time were numbered some of the most eminent men of letters and philosophy in Greece. Not to mention Antipater, the governor of Macedon, and successor of Alexander, to whom he gave instructions ^ his school could boast of Theophrastus, who wrote the History of Plants, and a vast number of other works — of Phanias, a celebrated logician — of Eudemua of Rhodes, known for his analytical and geometrical writings — of Eudemus of Cyprus, whom Aristotle honoured so highly as to call his " Dialogue of the Soul" after his name — of Dicaearchus, an orator and geometrician, whom Plutarch ranks among the best of philosophers — of Aristoxenus, whose ingratitude has already been mentioned, as the calumniator of his master — of Hipparchus of Stagira — Leon the sophist — j^Eschiron, a heroic poet of Mitylene — Hieronimus the Rhodian — Heraclides of Pontus, a noted philologist — all of whom, with many others, are acknowledged to have studied in the Lycaeum, where she attendance was so numerous and distinguished, that Nicander of Alexandria wrote a book expressly D 50 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. upon the subject. Had this work survived, the ca- talogue would have been more perfect, but unfortu* nately it is no longer extant. Like other great men, Aristotle had enemies and detractors, as well as admirers. Of their calumni- ous charges, some were so absurd as to refute them- selves. They have been perpetuated in the sar- casms of Lucian, and the lying whispers of Athe- nseus, which, in more recent times, have been too often mistaken, even by the learned, for true his- tory. In Athens, the jealousy and envy which usually accompany superior talents, were inflamed by philosophical prejudices, and professional rivalry Sophists and sciolists, soothsayers and satirists, as- sailed the Stagirite, and vied with each other in heaping obloquy on a character, the ornament of his own age, and destined for many centuries to be the great instructor of mankind. So long as Alex- ander lived, whose name then filled the whole civi- lized world, his preceptor was unmolested, even amidst the turbulence of the Athenian democracy ; and it was not till the year following the death of that prince, that the rancorous malignity which had been suppressed burst forth against Aristotle with resistless violence. That he regarded with equal contempt vain pretenders to real science, and real professors of sciences which he deemed vain and frivolous, is obvious from innumerable passages in his moral and political works. But it was on ac- count of his theological opinions, which, as we have stated al»*ve were too refined for the grossness of MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 5J paganism, that he was cited before the tribunals of his country; — a mere pretext, to give a plausible disguise to the conspiracy formed against his life. Accordingly, he was accused of impiety before the Areopagus by the hierophant (or priest) Eurymedon, abetted by Demophilus, a man of more weight in the Republic ; both of them being instigated to this cruel persecution by the declared enemies of the ac- cused. The heads of the accusation were — that he had introduced certain philosophical tenets, contrary to the religion of the Athenians ; that he had ho- noured the memory of his wife Pythias and his friend Hermias with hymns and statues — ceremonies which belonged solely to the majesty of the gods. As the inscription on the altar and the ode in praise of Hermias have both been preserved, nothing more is required to shew the utter groundlessness of the accusation ; and from the frivolous nature of this charge, which was considered the chief article in the impeachment, we may warrantably conjecture, that the reproach of worshipping Pythias with honours due to the Eleusinian Ceres, was equally unfound- ed. A more reasonable and a more natural infe- rence might have been, that the virtues of the wife had inspired the husband with more than a common degree of attachment ; and that, after her death, he had expressed his affectionate regard with an amiable enthusiasm, which the malice of his enemies con- strued into an act of criminal idolatry. As for the alleged impiety of his philosophical tenets, his denial 52 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. of a Providence, and the consequent inutility of prayers and sacrifices, these imputations are not only not corroborated in any of his writings, but clearly and uniformly contradicted. He enumerates the priesthood as among the functions or offices essen- tially requisite to the existence of every community; and he has shown his veneration for religion in ge- neral, by treating with tenderness even that distort- ed image of it reflected in the puerile superstitions uf his country. Truth, however, is always dreaded by the interested supporters of popular errors ; and the Athenian priests had more to apprehend from his enlightened theology than to fear from his pre- tended impiety. Aristotle was not unprepared for this persecution, and, had his cause been tried before an impartial tribunal, defeat and disgrace must have recoiled up- on his accusers. He is said to have composed an oration in his own defence, and to have inveighed in a strong metaphor against the increasing degene- racy of his fellow-citizens, by citing a verse from the Odyssey, Pear withers after pear, And fig on fig rots here, alluding to the swarms of informers (or sycophants) and false accusers, which sprung up daily in Athens, in as regular succession as the fruits in the rich gar- dens of Alcinous. This discourse, the boldness of which could only have inflamed the blind zeal of hia MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLfc. 53 weak or wicked judges, was not delivered in Court. Perceiving that his fate was inevitable, the phi- losopher stole privately away from the city, thus escaping the idle mockery of a trial ; and being un- willing, as he expresses it, that the Athenians should have a second opportunity of committing a capital crime against philosophy — alluding to the death of Socrates, who had fallen a victim to the intolerant' superstition of his age. On leaving Athens, Aristotle directed his steps to Chalcis in Euboea, and in this retreat he spent the remainder of his days. Here he was waited up- on by the whole company of his disciples 'and fol- lowers, who besought him to make choice of a suo cessor, to whom they might look up as the director and finisher of their studies. The pre-eminent me- rits of Theophrastus and Eudemus, the latter fron> Rhodes and the former of Lesbos, were universally acknowledged ; and in deciding their claims, the prudent sage, to avoid giving offence, had recourse to a gentle artifice. Having requested a draught of Rhodian wine, he admitted it was strong and plea- sant ; but when he had tasted the Lesbian, he pro- nounced it the sweeter of the two — thus leaving his auditors to infer, in the true style of eastern parable, on whom his choice had fallen. Theophrastus wa€ not only remarkable for genius and erudition : he ex- celled as an orator, as the very name imports which is expressive of his divine eloquence. His writings were numerous, and Diogenes has preserved the 54 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. titles of above 200 treatises, only a few of which are extant. The fame of the Lycseum, which the Stagirite himself had maintained unimpaired through life, was amply sustained by his successor, whose increasing reputation soon attracted an audience of 2000 scholars. His friendship was courted by some of the most powerful kings and princes of his time, amongst whom were Cassander and Ptolemy, who had succeeded Alexander on the thrones of Macedon and Egypt. Aristotle did not long survive his retirement to the shores of Euboea. He died within twelve months after leaving Athens ; persecution and exile having probably shortened his days, as he was only in his sixty-third year. The manner of his death, like various circumstances in his life, gave rise to many false and contradictory reports. St Justin says that he died of shame and vexation at not be- ing able to explain the cause of the tides in the Eu- ripus, an arm of the sea on which Chalcis stood, and which, as Lucian avers, ebbed and flowed seven times in twenty-four hours. Upon this assertion has been engrafted the puerile story, that he threw himself into the waves in despair, exclaiming, " Eu- ripus shall take Aristotle, since Aristotle cannot comprehend Euripus." Suidas states that he poi- soned himself by drinking hemlock — an assertion at variance with truth, and rendered altogether impro- oable, from the fact, that in his writings the Stagirite always speaks of suicide as a shameful and cowardly MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 55 crime. According to Laertius, Dionysius, and other creditable authors, his death was occasioned by the natural infirmity of his stomach, which was greatly increased by over-watching and excess of study. To this malady he had long been subject, and to assuage it he was in the habit of applying a bottle of xvarm oil to his breast. Considering his frequent indisposition, it is more remarkable, as one of his biographers observes, that he lived so long, than that he did not live longer. Some have recorded the dying words which he is said to have addressed to those standing around him, '* Thou Cause of Causes have mercy on me ;" but their genuineness may be doubted, as they rest on no authority more ancient than the testimony of a Christian writer. The Sta- girites brought the body of their philosopher from Chalcis to his native place, where it was buried with vast solemnity, and where a magnificent tomb was built, and an altar erected to his memory. Of Aristotle's appearance and habits little is known. In stature he was short, having slender limbs, a high nose, small eyes, a weak voice, and a stammering hesitation in his speech. It was per- haps to make amends for the niggardly bounty of na- ture, that he took more than ordinary pains in the dress and ornaments of his person. His constitu- tion was delicate and sickly, but he counteracted its infirmities by temperance. His application to books was indefatigable. So incessant was he in the pur- suit of knowledge, that he regularly devoted to it 56 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. those hours which he stole from the necessary sea- son of repose ; for Laertius affirms, that, when he went to bed, he held a hrazen ball in his hand, the noise of which, dropping into a metal basin when he fell asleep, might awake him to resume his studies ; and in this practice he was imitated by his royal pupil Alexander. He was twice married. By his first wife he had a daughter, called after her own name (Pythias), who survived her father, and gave birth to a second Aristotle, of whom nothing except this cir- cumstance has been recorded. His second wife was Herpylis, a native of Stagira, and basely defamed by the enemies of her husband, as a courtezan and a concubine. By her he had an only son, Nicomachus, ivho was a disciple of Theophrastus, and fell in bat- tle at an early age. To him he dedicated his great work on Morals, called " Nicomachea," which, as it was the last and principal object of his studies, is of all his performances the longest, the best connected, and incomparably the most interesting. His will, a copy of which is preserved in Laertius, is curious, not merely as throwing some light on his domestic affairs, but as an example of the distinct yet concise form of ancient testamentary deeds. If indited shortly before he expired, it refutes the fables about his committing suicide, and may be reckoned an evidence that he not only died a natural death, but with a calmness and composure worthy of philosopher. Antipater, the confidential minister 01 Philip, and afterwards viceroy of Macedon, was ap* MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 57 pointed the executor of this testament, with an autho- rity paramount, as appears, to that of the other per- sons who were afterwards conjoined with him in the guardianship of his widow and children. To Her- pylis, besides other property in money and slaves, was left the choice of two houses, the one in Chal- cis, the other his paternal mansion at Stagira ; with instructions that whichever of them she might prefer to inhabit, might be properly furnished for her re- ception. The testator commends her domestic vir- tues, and requests his friends, that, in testimony of her faithfulness towards him, they would distinguish her by the kindest attention ; and that, should she again think of a husband, they would be careful to provide for her a suitable match. To his son Ni- comachus, and his daughter Pythias, he bequeathed the remainder of his fortune, with the exception of /us library and writings, which he left to his favourite < scholar Theophrastus, one of the trustees. It was x stipulated, that his daughter, when she attained a marriageable age (being then about fourteen years old), should be given to Nicanor, the son of Proxe- nus, whom he had adopted ; and, failing him, that Theophrastus himself should accept her hand and fortune ; on which happy occasion, four of his slaves were to obtain their manumission. The bones of his first wife he ordered to be disinterred, and laid beside his own, as she herself had requested. None of his slaves were to be sold ; they were all to be either emancipated by his will, or ordered to be set 58 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. free by his heirs, so soon as they seemed worthy of liberty ; an injunction conformable to the maxim in- culcated in his Politics, that slaves of all descrip- tions ought to be liberated whenever they merited freedom, and were qualified for enjoying it. The testament concludes with instructions as to the per- formance of such marks of respect as he considered due to the memory of his relations, and to the religion of his country ; viz. the erecting of the statues he had dedicated to Proxenus and his wife ; to his own mother and brother, Arimnestus; and, finally, to Jupiter and Minerva, the Preservers (S&>r»j^g?), which he had vowed to them for the health of Nicanor. These latter were to be placed at Stagira, and to con- sist of " statues of beasts of stone of four cubits." The private character of Aristotle seems to have been irreproachable. That he had many detractors, who envied him his popularity, and have transmitted very unfavourable accounts of his moral qualities, has already been mentioned. Some earned their extravagant censures so high, as to accuse him of every vice that can degrade human nature. He was stigmatized as a glutton, a libertine, and a parasite, adapting his philosophy to the corrupt practices of the great ; as a sordid miser, who sold the oil which he had used medicinally, and even the empty brass pots in which it was contained ; and as an ungrate- ful ci tizen, who betrayed the place of his birth to the Macedonians. These and numerous other charges were the pure offspring of calumny, and owe their MEMOIR OF AK1STOTLE. 59 propagation to the zeal of philosophical rivalry. The circumstances of his life, and the esteem in which he was universally held by his contemporaries, afford evidence enough, that the dark side of the picture has been greatly overcharged. Of this we have still more decisive proof in the tone and spirit of his writings, especially the ethical part of them, which breathes a purer morality than is to be found in any antecedent author ; a morality, also, avowed- ly practical, and by which he would have stood self- condemned, had his own conduct been at variance with it. " He exhibited a character as a man (says a modern biographer) worthy of his pre-eminence as a philosopher ; inhabiting courts without mean- ness and without selfishness ; living in schools with- out pride and without austerity ; cultivating with ardent affection every domestic and every social vir- tue ; while, with indefatigable industry, he reared that wonderful edifice of science, the plan of which we are still enabled to delineate from his imperfect and mutilated writings." The humanity of his na- ture appears in the different acts of kindness which he conferred on his relatives and benefactors ; and his scrupulous regard for truth is preserved in his me- morable saying — amicus Socrates, amicus Plato, sed magis arnica veritas, " Socrates is dear, and Plato is dear, but truth dearer than all." He possessed con- siderable facetiousness of disposition ; and in his po- litical works are to be found many strokes of genu- ine humour, little suspected by his commentators. 60 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. As the wisdom of the ancients was often conveyed in apophthegms of pithy and oracular brevity, so his gravest maxims were frequently seasoned with inno- cent pleasantry. His smart sayings and quick re* partees were long remembered and admired by those incapable of appreciating his weightier merits. Some of them have been preserved by Laertius, of which a few may be given as examples. Being reproved for bestowing alms on a profligate, he said, " he gave not to the man but to humanity." Being ask- ed, what of all things grows soonest old ? he replied, " Gratitude." Of friendship he said, " it was one soul in two bodies." Being told that one had reviled him, " let him beat me too (said he) when 1 am ab- sent." To an idle babbler who had detained him, and expressed his fear that he had been tedious, he answered, " Not at all, for I paid no attention to your discourse." Hearing a conceited youth boast- ing of his fine cloak, " It was but a silly vanity (he said) to be proud of a sheep's fleece." A handsome young man much courted, thus accosted him, " If I were hated by the citizens as you are, I would hang myself." " And I (replied the other) would hang myself if I were admired by them as you are." It was as impossible, he said, for a tattler to keep a secret, as for a man to hold a burning coal in his mouth. Being asked what advantage he had de- rived from philosophy, he answered, " that of doing voluntarily what others do through fear of the laws." Such apophthegms, some of which are probably spu- MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 61 rious, would hardly deserve to be noticed, did they not serve to shew a mind free and unencumbered amidst the abstrusest studies, and a readiness of wit which never failed to check arrogance, and repel the %neers of the impertinent. His unwearied application to study has been al- ready noticed, and he took great pains that his dis- ciples should follow his example. In the Lycaeum their industry was remarkable. An archon, or re- gent, was chosen from amongst themselves every ten days, to superintend their progress and enforce the due observance of the stated rules of the school. Scientific lectures were given, and exercises pre- scribed to the students, both in the dialectical and rhetorical form. To assist them in the acquisition of every kind of learning, their master had taken care to collect a variety of books, which were con- stantly open to their perusal. Strabo, indeed, says that he was the first who formed a regular library ; and that Ptolemy Philadelphua received directions \ from him as to the proper method of arranging the celebrated one which he founded. That he might have given suggestions as to the collecting and dis- posing of literary works, may be fairly admitted ; but that no considerable libraries existed before his time, is neither probable nor consistent with history which mentions several, both princes and private persons, anterior to that age, who had made collec- tions, and possessed repositories of books. His con- duct towards the writers that preceded him, has 62 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. been censured with more acrimony than justice. Lord Bacon says, that, after the manner of the Otto- man princes, he thought his throne could not be se- cure unless he killed all his brethren. Ludovicus Vives charges him with detracting from all philoso- phers, that he might appropriate that glory to him- self of which he had robbed them. It has also been averred that he rarely quotes an author but with ft view to censure, and is not very fair in represent- ing the opinions which he censures ; and that, after collecting from the works of the ancients what he intended to confute, he committed them to the flames, that no evidence might remain of his misrepresenta- tions. His passion for fame was undoubtedly great ; and Bacon's opinion is not without probability, that his ambition was as boundless as that of his royal p upil — the one aspiring at universal monarchy over the bodies and fortunes of men ; the other over their opinions. If such were the case, it cannot be said that the philosopher pursued his aim with less ability or less success than the hero. But the allegation that he burnt the works of his predecessors, is con- tradicted by the circumstance of his having establish- ed a reading depot in the Lycaeum, and by the fact that most of the books said to have been thus de- stroyed, are mentioned by Cicero as extant in his time. Whatever advantages Aristotle derived from ac- cess to an extensive perusal of the literary labours of others, he was too honest to plume himself with a borrowed reputation "^liere is a candour and man- MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 63 liness strikingly discernible in all his writings ; not professedly set forth, but interwoven with the tex- ture of his discussions, and rather betrayed uncon- sciously than demanding to be recognised. His knowledge acquired by reading can therefore only be reckoned an accidental help to the display of those amazing powers of reason and reflection which he naturally possessed, and which may be said to have qualified him to survey, with the discerning eye of intuition, every object of human understanding. There is scarcely a phenomenon which the natural world presents, or the human mind conceives to be the subject of scientific or speculative investigation, to which he did not extend his inquiries. In his Ethics he has given a full and satisfactory delineation of the moral nature of man, and of the discipline and exercise best adapted to its improvement. In his Politics he considers men in their social capacity, depending mainly for their happiness and perfection on the public institutions of their respective coun- tries. To ascertain what are the different arrange- ments that have been found, under given circum- stances, practically most conducive to these grand and ultimate purposes, is the important question which he undertakes to solve. The labour he be- stowed on the inquiry may be conceived from the fact, that he had carefully examined two hundred systems of legislation, many of which are nowhere else described. In what may be termed speculative science he stood unrivalled, and it was in this de- 64 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. partment that the fertility and ingenuity of his intel- lect was most signally displayed. Some authors accuse him of having studied to be obscure for the sake of being thought original, and of being less anxious to discover truth than to ac- quire fame. " His writings (says Dr Reid) carry too evident marks of that philosophical pride, va- nity, and envy, which have often sullied the charac- ter of the learned. He determines boldly things above all human knowledge, and enters upon the most difficult questions, as his pupil entered upon a battle, with full assurance of success. He delivers his decisions oracularly, and without any fear of mis- take. Rather than confess his ignorance, he hides it under hard words and ambiguous expressions, of which his interpreters may make what they please. There is even reason to suspect that he wrote often with affected obscurity, either that the air of mys- tery might procure greater veneration, or that his hooks might be understood only by the adepts who had been initiated in his philosophy." * That there may be some truth in the charge of vanity cannot be denied, and this " infirmity of noble minds" was to be expected in a man who had the daring ambition to be transmitted to all future ages as the Prince of Philosophers — as one who had earned every branch of human knowledge to its utmost limit. But it is manifestly unfair to impute to him all the obscurities, errors, and contradictions, that are now to be found ^r Reid's Analysis of Aristotle's Logic. MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 65 in his writings ; considering that the greatest, and perhaps the best, part of them are lost, and that his copyists and interpreters have ascribed to him innu- merable opinions which he did not hold ; while by universally confounding his solid sense with the fan- cies of Plato, they have introduced incongruities and absurdities of which he was never guilty. We do not say with some of his extravagant ad- mirers, that he treated all his subjects in a manner complete, so as to surpass every preceding exertion of the human intellect. This eulogium is only partial- ly true. But the praise and merit must be allowed him of having introduced and exemplified a stricter method of philosophising than what had been before observed in the Grecian schools. In every doctrine and theory he excluded the mixtures of poetry and fable which, in some degree, still prevailed ; and he endeavoured to subject every hypothesis to the test of reason and argument. He framed with penetra- tion and acuteness superior to all others, the rules of logical induction and demonstrative reasoning. It was from the accuracy and the novelty of his sys- tem in this respect, as well as from the universality of his genius, which appeared to master every subject of study with equal facility, that some of the ablest judges in antiquity, on perusing his elaborate treatises on the different branches of knowledge, hesitated not to pronounce him " the most excellent in all science, Plato only excepted." This is the opinion of Cicero, to whose philosophical works the world at large is 66 MEMOIR OP ARISTOTLE. more indebted for a familiar notion ot several of Aris- totle's most important doctrines, than to the labours of all his commentators collectively.* The enco- mium, however, must not be understood to imply that the ancients approved exclusively of his physi- cal and moral theories as preferable to all other sys- tems ; or that they gave an entire and unlimited as- sent to all his tenets. Even his own disciples and successors in the LycaBum disagreed with him on cer- tain points ; nor did the followers of other sects, who commented on parts of his works which they thought most ingenious, espouse his general principles, or acknowledge him their master in philosophy. Such servile adoration did not obtain until the dark age of literature arose, in which all taste for liberal inquiry became extinct, and the human faculties themselves appeared to be sunk in irretrievable torpor. It was then that the benighted world embraced him as an infallible guide, and bowed with submissive indolence to his dogmas. Revering him as an oracle, they be- lieved that where his text was obscure, it was to be explained into some profound meaning which, being inexpressible by any known words, might be denot- ed by terms of their own invention, that had either a very dubious sense, or were as unintelligible as * " Cum omnis ratio diligens disserendi duas habet partes, unam inveniendi, alteram judicandi, utriusque Princeps, ut mihi quidem videtur, Aristoteles fuit." — Cicero in Topic. And again, "Aristoteles longe omnibus (Platonem semper excipio) praestans et ingenio, et diiigentia." — Tusculan. Quest, lib. i. MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 67 the original. By these means was Aristotle at length not merely exalted to the throne of philosophy, but enshrined as it were the inspired and presiding ge- nius of science. Never was papal despotism over the consciences of men more absolute, than was the authority of the Stagirite over their minds and opi- nions. The power of the greatest monarchs on earth must appear fleeting and precarious, when compared with his long and solitary reign in the schools of the middle ages. From this summary of the life and character of Aristotle, we must now turn to give a condensed survey of his voluminous works. According to the most credible accounts, he composed about 400 dif- ferent treatises on the various subjects which then formed the curriculum of scholastic study, including Logic, Rhetoric, Ethics, Politics, Physics, Meta- physics, Mathematics, Optics, Astronomy, Music, Mechanics, Medicine, Philology, Physiology, Natu- ral History, Epistles, and many other topics, which it would be tedious to enumerate. It appeal's that neither he nor Theophrastus were at pains to secure the publication of their works during their lifetime ; and the cause of their negligence or nonperformance of this important task, has been the theme of much conjecture. The solution of the question may de- pend on collateral circumstances with which we are altogether unacquainted : but the current persuasion was, that it arose either from an excess of modesty or prudence; or, from a diffidence of success in com- 68 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. peting with Plato, who then stood pre-eminent in philosophical fame, and whose opinions he had in se- veral material points impugned. Whatever the fact may be, the carelessness or timidity of Aristotle was fatal to his writings, and had well nigh created a blank in literary history, which might have for ever deprived the world of this invaluable treasury of an- cient learning. The extraordinary fate and miraculous preserva- tion of these works, form a curious episode in the biography of their author ; and the regret which every friend to science must feel, that so much has perished, is heightened by reflecting on the imperfect and mutilated state of the little that re- mains. Whilst the Stag-kite distributed his other property to his surviving family, he left the more precious bequest of his library and manuscripts to his favourite disciple Theophrastus, who in his turn bequeathed them to his own scholar Neleus, by whom they were conveyed from Athens to Scepsis, his na- tive place, a city of the ancient Troas, in Asia Mi- nor. The heirs of Neleus, to whom they next de- scended, being neither men of letters, nor lovers of books, (as Strabo relates,) totally neglected the intel- lectual treasure that had most unworthily devolved to them. The magnificence of kings had then be- gun to display itself in collecting works of ge- nius, which were sought out with an eager and la- vish curiosity. It was a taste happy for the caufce of literature in general, although in the present in- MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 69 stance, the occasion of serious misfortune. The Scepsions on hearing that Eumenes, king of Perga- mus, in whose dominions they lived, was making ex- tensive researches with the view of forming a large library, resorted to a selfish expedient for securing their literary property from the rapacious hands of their sovereign. With the caution incident to the subjects of a despot, who often have recourse to con- cealment in order to avoid robbery, they hid the books under ground ; and in this subterranean ce- metery the writings of Aristotle, as well as the vast collection of materials from which they had been composed, lay buried for many generations, a prey to dampness and worms. Some authors, such as Bayle and Patricius, allege that Neleus sold the original works and the whole library to Ptolemy Philadel- phus of Egypt, after having transcribed them ; and that it was only the copies and not the originals that vere exposed to the unworthy fate of rotting in a humid cell. But the supposition is altogether im- probable. On the one hand it is hardly credible that so many thousand volumes could have been tran- scribed in so short a time ; and on the other, it is reasonable to believe that the philosophy of the Ly- caeum would have struck deeper root and made greater progress in the Egyptian capital than it ever did, had the genuine works of the Stagirite adorned the library of Alexandria, under the first Ptolemies. In their catacomb at Scepsis, the manuscripts re- mained until their very existence seems to have been 70 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. forgotten. At length, after the lapse of 130 years, and when all hope of their ever seeing the light must have vanished, vanity and avarice accomplished what a nobler motive ought to have done. Apellicon, a rich disciple of the Peripatetic school, whose name has heen already mentioned, while residing at Athens, had turned his attention to the collecting of books ; and although a " bibliosophist rather than a philoso- pher," (as Strabo calls him), he courted the ostenta- tion of scholarship, by ordering them to be pur- chased at the dearest rate. The " witless felons of philosophy" at Scepsis heard of his premiums and opened their vault. The volumes of Aristotle and his illustrious successor were thus released from pri- son, or rather dug from the grave, and, with all the injuries of moths and mouldering upon them, sold for a large sum, and carried back to the city where they had been originally written. Their new owner was at the expense of employing a number of copy- ists to transcribe them, himself superintending the task. The work of restoring them was very imper- fectly executed, and this must be attributed not only to the ignorance of the transcribers, but to the tat- tered condition of the manuscripts, and the abstruse nature of the subjects. The most considerable part of his Acroatic works, which are almost the whole of those now remaining, consist of little else than text-books, containing the detached heads of his discourses ; and from a want of connexion in the matter, they have been exposed to additional cor- MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 71 ruption from the conjectural emendations of subse- quent commentators. Wbat became of Aristotle's original manuscripts we are not informed ; but the copy remained at Athens until the spoliation of that city by the Ro- mans under Sylla. The library of Apellicon was a tempting object of plunder to the conquerors, who were then awakened to the value of literature ; and accordingly, the whole of this philosophical trea- sure, with other rich booty, were transmitted to Rome. There the works of the Stagirite expe- rienced a better fortune, owing to their having at- tracted the attention of Tyrannio, the famous gram- marian, a native of Amysus in Pontus, who had been taken prisoner by Lucullus in the Mithridatic war, but was afterwards manumitted, in consideration of his learning and merits. By paying court to Sylla's librarian, he obtained leave, after much solicitation, to take copies of the manuscripts, which were commu- nicated to Andronicus of Rhodes, who flourished as a philosopher at Rome in the time of Cicero and Pompey. Having undertaken the task of arranging and correcting those long-injured writings, the Rho- dian performed the duty of a skilful editor, by giving them to the world in a more perfect shape than they had hitherto appeared. Though considerably amend- ed and illustrated, the severe ordeal through which they passed had, in the lapse of nearly 300 years, greatly abridged their number. Out of the 400 books recorded by Laertius (and some have made 72 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. them double that amount), only forty-eight have been transmitted to the present age. But many of these last consist of several books ; and, according to the estimate of the laborious Fabricius, the whole of these remains, taken together, form a golden stream of Greek erudition, exceeding four times the collective bulk of the Iliad and Odyssey *. Though the works edited by Andronicus had suf- fered injuries which the utmost diligence and saga- city could not completely repair, yet, in consequence of those labours, the Peripatetic philosophy began to resume the lustre of which it had been deprived since the days of Theophrastus. In the Lycseum, the precepts of the sect were preserved through a line of successive teachers, by viva voce instructions ; and it is not impossible that the disciples may have had portions of their great master's lectures written down ; yet the details of the system were evidently entrusted to the tablets of memory. At Rome, the productions of the Stagirite made few converts at first ; and even in Cicero's time, their perusal was confined to a few of the learned. This sect, there- fore, in the Augustan age, made no considerable ap- pearance in that capital ; and, with the exception of Lucretius, we scarcely find among the Roman poets * By this calculation, the whole of Aristotle's works must have contained a quantity of prose equal to sixteen times 28,088 verses — a fact the more extraordinary, since the greater part of his writings are merely outlines or text- books, giving the heads of his lectures, or the chief topics of discussion in the different branches of science. ISITY MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. of that period any allusion to the doctrines of the Peripatetic school, or the philosophical renown of its founder. The edition of Andronicus made them better known, as his example of studying and illus- trating them was soon followed by various other commentators. To enumerate the host of Greek, Latin, Jewish, Arabic, and Christian writers who imitated the Rhodian editor in giving expositions and criticisms on the different works of Aristotle, would be foreign to our purpose. Their very names would fill a vo- lume. From the era of Augustus to the invention of printing, the works of the Stagirite passed through the hands of more than 10,000 commentators ; and after that period, several thousands more were added to the catalogue, amongst whom are to be classed not a few of the venerable fathers of the church, who borrowed from this armoury the intellectual weapons which rendered them invincible in their theological wars. The first generation of these expositors be- gan in the age of the Antonines with the labours of Taurus the Berissean, Adrastus, Alexander the Aphrodisaean at Rome, Galen the celebrated physi- cian, Atticus the Platonist, and Ammonius Sacchus of Alexandria. Under the Roman emperors, they ' continued to flourish ; and in the long list we find the once revered names of Aspasius, Syrianus, Olympiodorus, Plotinus, Porphyry, Themistius, Pro- clus, the second Ammonius, Damascius, Simplicius, Philopoimsj and Johannes Damascenus. By the 74 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. Arabs or Saracens, Aristotle was superfititiously adored, and his philosophy was ardently studied in their schools during upwards of four centuries. His metaphysical niceties were well adapted to the acute mental temperament of that ingenious people. In dispute all parties acknowledged his supremacy, and appealed to his assistance. The doctors of the Mosque easily laid prostrate the most stubborn ar- guments both of Jews and Christians against the truth of the Koran with the resistless artillery of his syllogisms. To translate or produce a commen- tary on his works, appeared to them the highest pitch of excellence to which the genius of man could attain. The most eminent of these oriental exposi- tors, whose fame long resounded even in the schools of Europe, were Alkendi, Alfarabi, Rhazes, Avi- cenna, and Averroes, who, in the felicitous obscu- rity of their opinions, often surpassed their master. When the literature of the Saracens was extinguish- ed at the taking of Bagdad by the Tartars in 1258, the illustration of the Aristotelian philosophy was prosecuted with unabated vigour in the Western Empire. So early as the sixth century, his logic assumed a Latin dress in the translation of Boethius Severinus, the last illustrious Consul of Rome. In this field the venerable Bede has also signalized him- self; and during the middle ages, a few learned monks exercised their ingenuity on the same sub- ject. After a long interval of nearly 700 years, translations and commentaries in the same language MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 75 fregan to abound, through the industry of Albertue Magnut, Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, John Ma- jor (a native of Iladdington), Theodore Gaza, Fran- ciscus, a Jesuit of Cordova, with a swarm of gram- marians and scholastics whom the art of typography had multiplied so abundantly that, towards the close of the sixteenth century, Patricias reckoned their number at 12,000. This cold and unintelligible mass of Gothic and Saracenic dulness is now con- signed to just oblivion. It may seem extraordinary that a philosophy thus disfigured by a succession of interpreters often more worthy of ridicule than of admiration, should have so long maintained an absolute ascendency over the minds of men. But the fact is easily explained. During the intellectual slumber of the western world, the human faculties had neither the light of letters to detect false glosses, nor mental energy to eman- cipate reason and conscience from the thraldom of ignorance and superstition. The sway of the Sta- gii'ite, however, was not always untroubled. Launoy enumerates eight different revolutions of his autho- rity in the University tff Paris, the oldest and long the most distinguished school in Europe. In the year 1 209, his writings were condemned as the pes- tilent sources of heresy, and committed to the flames. In 1542, the same writings were held in such veneration, that whoever denied their ortho- doxy was persecuted as an infidel. Peter Ramus, a Parisian Professor of that age (1551-1572), signa- 76 MEMOIR OP ARISTOTLE. lized himself as among the earliest to impugn the in- fallibility of this great oracle of philosophy. He wrote twenty hooks of Animadversions against Aris- totle's Logic, eight against his Physics, and fourteen against his Metaphysics — a boldness which proved fatal, as it made him first an exile and at length a martyr. It is but fair to add, that in the glory or disgrace which the schools then attached to his opi- nions, the Stagirite had no concern. The true spi- rit and meaning of his philosophy was completely re- fined away by the fanciful glosses of copyists and cri- tics; so that those scholastic combatants who banish- ed or murdered each other in his name, fought mere- ly about the husks of science, without the kernel. These observations are particulaily just as ap- plied to the absurd jargon or logomachy which pass- ed for learning, and during five centuries and a half divided Europe between the two renowned sects of Nominalists and Realists ; so called because the for- mer, whose reputed founder was Roscellinus, Canon of Compeigne, in the eleventh century, held the doc- trine of universals in logic to depend solely on names or words, and treated as mere illusions of fancy the Platonic ideas of their opponents, who regarded as their founder the celebrated monk Abelard, immor- talized by his amorous follies and misfortunes, and numbered among their champions Anselm, arch- bishop of Canterbury. Under the banners of one or other of these factions, the learning of Christen- dom arrayed itself during a succession of many ge- MEMOIR OP ARISTOTLE. 77 Derations. In their fierce and scandalous disputes, tie pugilistic doctors proceeded from words to blows, which often terminated in mutilation or death. In the hottest of the fray, the name of Aristotle was continually invoked, and his doctrines appealed to on both sides, though both parties flagrantly violated his authority — the Realists embodying their wild fan- cies under the name of substantial forms — while the ^Nominalists subtilised all knowledge, even theology itself, into shadowy notions arid unmeaning terms. During the prevalence of these gross corruptions in the Schools, and even amid the gloom of Go- thic and Saracenic darkness, a few stars brightened the literary horizon, and voices were raised in favour of genuine philosophy. The calumniated and pffer- secuted Roger Bacon, soaring above the ignorance of his times, maintained that Aristotle, rightly un- derstood, was the fountain of all knowledge ; and he asserted, with equal candour and firmness, that those who had undertaken to translate him were totally unfit for the task. But the beams of this luminary were quenched in the barbarism of the age ; and his Hiperior erudition, instead of enlightening, dazzled the weaker eyes of his contemporaries, who referred his wonderful discoveries to magic and the infernal arts. His illustrious namesake, Lord Verulam, ri- valled his fame, but did not possess his candour in regard to Aristotle, whom he studiously copies, and continually abuses, for errors that belong to his in- terpreters and commentators. It is not a little sifo- 8 MEMOIR OP ARISTOTLE. gular, that the Stagirite did precisely what he is olamed by Lord Bacon, Hobbes, Malebranche, and other French philosophers, for not doing. The au- thor of the Leviathan frequently combats, under the name of the Peripatetic philosophy, abstract essences, substantial forms, and innumerable other doctrines, metaphysical as well as moral and political, with nearly the same arguments by which Aristotle, their supposed author, had long before victoriously re- futed them. The evil of confounding the simpli- city of this philosophy with Platonism, was igno- rantly perpetuated from age to age, through a suc- cession of critics and commentators, not excepting the latest of them all, Mr Harris and Lord Mon- boddo, who perpetually ascribe to Aristotle the doc- trine of general ideas, which he repeatedly and for- mally denied. His logic was misrepresented by Locke and Lord Kames ; and even Dr Reid speaks of him harshly, as having purposely obscured his analytical rules by unmeaning illustrations. But wherever his principles and tenets have been studied with a competent degree of honesty and informa- tion, they have never failed to produce a conviction of their soundness and perspicuity; and, at the same time, an admiration for the wonderful discoveries and attainments in a man deemed the wisest of an- tiquity, and to whom, even in modern times, it will be easier to name many superiors in particular branches of knowledge, than to find any one rival in universal science. MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 79 To give an analysis of the philosophical and scho- *astic writings of Aristotle, belongs not to a work on natural history. A general notion of their contents may be communicated to the reader in a brief out- yine. The system of knowledge which prevailed in the schools when the Stagirite began to teach, and in which he had himself been trained, was not such as was likely to satisfy his penetrating mind. It was, in fact, a vast undigested scheme of theoretical wisdom, jumbled together without order, and fluc- tuating in its form and character, according to the talents and circumstances of its leading professors. The Pythagoreans blended physical, mathematical, and moral truth in mystic combination, as exhibited in the mythology of Egypt. In the hands of So- crates, philosophy assumed a more ethical com- plexion ; but the fanciful imagination of Plato in- vested it once more with a mixed character, by em- bodying in one compressed view the various preceding systems. Considering that definitions could not ap- ply to every perceptible object, if (according to the doctrine of Heraclitus) all such objects were constantly changing; and that numbers (as taught by Pythagoras) could not sufficiently account for that immense variety of objects which the universe pre- sented, he concluded that there must be some exist- ences, independent of the perceptible universe, to serve as the objects of definitions. Hence his famous doctrine of Ideas, or archetypes, corresponding to the different classes of external objects ; and to these 80 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. abstract images he assigned a real being, but capable of intellectual apprehension alone. In this manner he reared a motley system of physical philosophy, on a basis of metaphysics and logic conjointly. Although educated in this school, Aristotle had thought too deeply and accurately not to perceive that the cardinal doctrine of Platonism (ideas), how- ever specious, was rather a shadowy representation, than a solid structure. He saw that the various branches of philosophy were separated from their parent root, or grafted on unnatural stocks ; and that, in order to rest the sciences on a sure founda- tion, a more exact analysis of the principles of hu- man knowledge was required. Accordingly, his grand aim was to develope a truly intellectual sys- tem, instead of the ingenious phantom which the en- thusiasm of Plato had raised. The idols which had been set up in the niches and shrines of the schools, he swept away with a daring hand. In overthrow- ing the doctrine of ideas, he was no less a reformer of the ancient philosophy, than were Bacon and Boerhaave of the modern. It was the object of the one, as well as of the others, to cleanse and recon- struct the temple of science ; to recall men from un- profitable speculations to the realities of nature ; and to lay down rules to guide them in the discovery of sound and infallible principles. Philosophy was regarded by Aristotli, either as furnishing the mind with the means of contemplating external nature, or ministering to the improvement MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. gl and right direction of human life. The three grand divisions into which he distributed it were, 1 st, Theo- retic ; 2d, Efficient ; 3d, Practical ; including under the first, Physics, Mathematics, and Theology or Me- taphysics ; under the second, Rhetoric, Poetics, and Logic or Dialectics, comprehending what are com- monly termed the liberal arts ; under the third, Poli- tics and Ethics, or the moral sciences. Ths Ethics of Aristotle, as we already observed, display a wonderful degree of moral knowledge, and practical experience of mankind. Though composed amidst the darkness of heathen supersti- tion, they abound with pure and just sentiments ; and instead of depressing man to the low standard of manners and opinions then existing, they tend to elevate him to that perfection which a higher autho- rity has pronounced to be an indispensable element iu the Christian character. They are directed, no doubt, solely to the improvement of man in tliis pre- sent life ; but so sound are the principles of conduct laid down, that they may be readily extended to those nobler views of our nature and destiny opened up to us in the inspired volume. To us who live in the sunshine of revelation, it may be difficult fully, to appreciate the reach of thought it required in those times to see the science of ethics in its proper light, as a refinement of human character in order to human happiness. Yet to this merit the Stagp- rite is fairly entitled ; and no greater praise can be given tc a writer of heathen morality than to say F 82 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. (as may be truly said of his) that it contains nothing wb'ch a Christian may dispense with, and no pre- cept of life at variance with the Christian virtues. In this department, Aristotle has left three prin- cipal treatises, viz. 1st, The Nicomachean Ethics, in ten books, addressed to his son ; 2d, The Magna Moralia, in two books ; 3d, The Eudemian Ethics, in seven books, addressed to Eudemus ; besides a short popular tract on the Virtues and Vices. The first of these exhibits the most formal and complete development of his theory, and is the work on which his fame as a moral philosopher chiefly rests. The other treatises are illustrations of the same subjects, entertaining similar views, and sometimes expressed in the same language. In these writings, his primary aim is to investi- gate the law or philosophical principle, according to which human actions attain the good or happiness which is their object ; and which, as being the end really designed in all actions, whatever may be their immediate and particular object, is the great final cause of all. The doctrine of virtue, happiness, pleasure, friendship, justice, temperance, self-love, the affec- tions, the passions, the motives and effects of actions, are the important themes which he discusses. In these inquiries, he takes a safer guide than the fanciful speculations of the Greek schools concern- ing the chief good, which imagined that there was some quality of good, admitting of abstract disquisi- tions into it* nature. Hence the superiority of his MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 83 Ethics as a practical system, coming home with gentle yet resistless conviction to the hearts and un- derstandings of men. His morality is neither too rigid nor over-indulgent. In many respects, indeed, it is imperfect, as every thing must be that rests on no higher authority than the sanction of reason or na- ture ; but it gives juster views, and lays down nobler principles of duty, than any other system of antiquity. From not having clear light as to the real immor- tality of man, he was compelled to determine the excellence of human virtue and happiness from a view of his present condition only ; but, at the same time, whilst he recommends the active discharge of those duties and virtues which are within our reach, and which belong to us as men, he directs us to pur- sue that happiness which is beyond our attainment, and which he himself describes as an immortalizing of our nature — a living according to what is divine in man, and what renders him most god-like, and most dear to the Divinity. Considering his disad- vantages, it must excite our wonder that a philos" - pher living, as Aristotle did, amidst the darkn«»s and disorder resulting from the want of a purer re- ligion, should have given such sound practical oh-' servations on human nature, and formed such accurate conceptions of the perfection of human virtue. The work on Politics, comprising eight books, was a necessary sequel to that on Ethics, inasmuch as the precepts of the one, to have a moral effect on man, require to be enforced by the external sanction 84 MEMOIR OP ARISTOTLE, of the other ; for it was the current notion of ancient philosophy, that the laws of the State, and the in- stitution of rewards and punishments, were the great instruments for bringing mankind to that course of action in which their real interest consisted. On this imperfect principle, Aristotle, in common with other Greek philosophers, constructed his theory of politics, which embraces three very important sub- jects, viz. the origin of society and government, the distinctions of rank in a commonwealth, and a com- parison of the best plans of political economy. In the prosecution of this task, besides examining and criticising the systems of others, as Plato, Hippoda- mus, Phaleas, Diocles ; and the polities of Sparta, Lacedaemon, Athens, Crete, Carthage, &c. he dis- cusses all the great leading questions both in civil and economical science ; — the duties of citizens and magistrates ; the different orders of priests ; the best plans of education ; naval and military force ; causes of sedition ; unions and combinations ; monopolies ; commerce and manufactures ; slavery ; freedom ; na- ture of property ; accumulation of stock ; and many other topics, in which the extent of his knowledge is not more remarkable than the soundness of his views. Of the various kinds of government, the monarchical, the aristocratical, the republican, and the democra- tic, he considers the most " perfect polity" to be a mixture of oligarchy and democracy, so blended, that both appear, yet neither preponderate ; and in which no one of the component elements of society has an MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 85 undue influence, but an equal regard is shewn to the claims of freedom, wealth, and virtue. He admits, however, that the public welfare may be promoted under other forms — a monarchy or an aristocracy — as well as under a " polity ;" but the latter he pre- fers, as tending to maintain a due equality of rights and relations among the members of the community. One excellence of his system is, that it admits only the general pursuit of the common weal, which, like the private happiness sketched in his Ethics, is not to be made a distinct object under any particular form, but must be the universal aim of the whole organization of the society, as individual happiness is the result of the general regulation of all the mo- ral principles. It is true that he supposes a society to constitute itself in order to its own moral happi- ness, and herein is the defect of his scheme ; but this selfish principle must be considered as a neces- sary substitute in his system for a divine providence, the operation of which not being admitted or under- stood, he was obliged to have recourse to the agency of nature. Aristotle appears the only political theorist among the ancients who never lost sight of the moral nature of man in his speculations. While most others, not7 excepting Plato himself, treated human society mere- ly as a physical mass, capable of being moulded into particular forms by the mechanism of external cir- cumstances, he ascribes the formation of the best so- cial constitution to the force of custom, philosophy, 86 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. and laws. His whole treatise well deserves to be studied, both for its political maxims and its histori- cal information. It lays open the elements of stabi- lity and decay inherent in the different theories of government ; and it points out the common principles on which the maintenance of civil order, under any form whatever, must essentially depend. " In this incomparable work (says Dr Gillies), the reader will perceive the genuine spirit of laws, deduced from the specific and unalterable distinctions of governments ; and, with a small effort of attention, may discern not only those discoveries in science unjustly claimed by the vanity of modern writers (Montesquieu, Machia- vel, Locke, Hume, Smith, &c.) ; but many of those improvements in practice, erroneously ascribed to the fortunate events of time and chance in these later and more enlightened times. The same invaluable treatise discloses the pure and perennial spring of all legitimate authority ; for in Aristotle's Politics, and his only^ government is placed on such a natural and solid foundation, as leaves neither its origin incom- prehensible, nor its stability precarious ; and his con- clusions, had they been well weighed, must have sur- mounted or suppressed those erroneous and absurd doctrines, which long upheld despotism on the one hand, and those equally erroneous and still wilder suppositions of conventions and compacts which have more recently armed popular fury on the other." The second grand division of Aristotle's philoso- phy, called the Efficient, includes Dialectics or Logic, MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 87 Rhetoric and Poetics, with their accessory and colla- teral sciences. Dialectic, or the art of reasoning, taken in its widest sense, is the method of deducing the probabilities on either side of a question, so framed as to involve one of two contradictory propositions in the answer, according as the affirmative or nega- tive side is adopted. No part of scholastic science stood more in need of amendment than this ; and accordingly his treatise on the subject is the refor- mation of the irregular and confused system in use before his time. Not only does he explain the ge- neral notion of the science, as the art of defending or impugning an opinion ; he takes a wider and more philosophical view, by investigating the grounds both in the structure of language and the connexion of thought, on which all arguments must rest. This art presented a field for the display of singular acuteness, and it was carried by Aristotle to a 'degree of perfection beyond what any before him had con- ceived. He pointed out the method by which the defender of a thesis might be invincible, and taught the opponent to shew no less insuperable skill in his attacks ; so that every question could easily be per- plexed with endless disputation, and all reasoning made to revolve in a circle. To excel in the ma-' nagement of the syllogism was the pride and glory of the schools in the dark ages ; but the extravagant height to which it was carried, was an impediment to knowledge, and a burlesque on moral science. This, however, was an abuse of the system, and 88 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. ought not to be charged as any impeachment of the labours of the Stagirite. His four books of Analytics divided into Prior and Posterior, testify how dis- tinct and comprehensive a view he took of this dry and apparently barren subject. The reader cannot fail to mark the exactness of his rules for the con- version of one proposition into another ; and to ad- mit the special claim he has to the invention of To- pics, or general heads of every species of question or argument, together with the most pertinent and ad- vantageous methods of treating them. By way of generalizing this science, he has arranged all the ob- jects of human thought that can be expressed by " single words, under ten Categories or Predicaments ; and in explaining the nature and properties of each, he has opened up to the inquisitive mind a wide field of syllogistic information. The preceding trea- tises, including one book of Interpretation, one of Sophisms, and eight of Topics, form collectively what is now called Aristotle's Organum, or Logic ; a work admirably calculated for sharpening the un- derstanding and expanding the intellectual faculties ; but a work which has been often as grossly misrepre- sented, as it was long most wofully misapplied du- ring those ages when scholastic jargon had usurped the name and the seats of philosophy. In his three books on Rhetoric, Aristotle has dis- played the same extent and variety of learning as in his Ethics. He treats it not merely as the science of eloquence and composition, but as the art of per MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 89 suasion; and although he lays down excellent rules for the structure of sentences, and the skilful use of ornaments in style, he cautions the orator to consi- der them as subordinate to the proper business of his profession. He dissuades him from imitating the practice, then too common, of appealing to the passions of the hearers, rather than to their judg- ment and understanding ; but he recommends him to study every variety of human character, and to ^vail himself of the moral feelings, and even of the natural prejudices, of his auditory. His division of the art is threefold, according to the different occa- sions on which it was employed among the Greeks : 1 . The deliberative ; or its use in political debates. 2. The judicial ; or its use in popular assemblies, as those of Athens, in which the people collectively exercised the judicial functions. 3. The demonstra- tive; or its use in panegyric and invective, where the orator had only to gratify his hearers by a dis- play of eloquence. In these several heads of in- quiry, he has given an admirable analysis of the mo- tives by which mankind at large are commonly ac- tuated in their conduct and opinions. All the wind- ings and recesses of the human heart he has ex- plored ; all its caprices and affections ; whatever tends' to excite, to irritate, to amuse, or to gratify it, have been carefully examined ; the reason of these pheno- mena is demonstrated, and the method of creating them is explained. Nothing, in short, has been left untouched, on which Rhetoric, in all its branches. 90 has an MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. the laws of cr 1 Clj»'icisrn » almost exdasively «f the drama. The and the e of mann t.V of taste ^created «»'! those it most likely Prising the science «f nd al Tt at of ' authority consifler«ion °" Tra Comedy, °Wance for the and th centuiy- " t0 be °f -ociety °( Alh™> e ^ »f re^eMed' <« com- MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 91 that appellation from the Stagirite himself, who has not treated the three subdivisions of this branch as separate sciences, but often blends their different principles in the same discussion. The name is un- known in his original works, and arose from the cir- cumstance of certain treatises on what he denomi- nates the First Philosophy or Theology, being placed in the edition of Andronicus the Rhodian, after the Physics.* This arrangement was adopted by other commentators, and as the subjects were of an ab- struse and speculative nature, the term was applied by the schoolmen to what in modern writers is de- signated by the Philosophy of Human Mind. In his Physical disquisitions, the genius of Aristotle plunged into an abyss, which it could not fathom ; and in at- tempting definitions of the terms, act, power, pro- perty, accidence, substance, energy, potentiality, &c. he shewed the futility of endeavouring to explain what is indefinable, merely by substituting words instead of ideas. In considering Being in union with matter, and investigating those universal prin- ciples under which he conceived all existing things to be arranged, he fell into the absurdity of con- founding mental impressions with the facts which nature presented to his observation. Instead of look- * Andronicus is said to have prefixed to the twelve or fourteen books, which had no title, the epithet roe, /t&ret, roe. Qvffixa. (metaphysica), the things after the physics, to signify that he found these books so placed in the original collec- tion, or to intimate that he judged this to be their proper position. 92 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. ing to the phenomena of the material universe, he employed himself in deducing consequences from metaphysical and mathematical data ; — arguing from the mere abstract notions of the mind, to the reali- ties of the external world. The first portion of his physical philosophy, contained in the treatise en- titled Natural Auscultations, is devoted to inquiries into the principles of the science, in order to ascer- tain those fundamental conceptions of its several ob- jects, from which all conclusions concerning them are deduced. These principles he reduces to three : ! . Matter ; 2. Form ; 3. Privation ; so well known and so much perverted in the jargon of the schools. The design of his inquiry being to obtain, by physical analysis, an ultimate point to which all the various notions involved in the speculation of nature might be inferred, he proceeds to explain these natural ob- jects to be such as have in themselves a principle of motion and rest, as contrasted with works of art, the principle of which is in the artist. From examining this inherent principle, and shewing how it operates in producing the ordinary appearances observed in the world around us, he is led to account for the processes of generation and corruption, and the changes which occur in bodies by alteration, mix- ture, locomotion, increase and decrease, &c. The great doctrine of the ancient physics, " that nothing could be produced out of nothing," according to his theory, required no distinct consideration. In- quiring into nature simply as a principle of motion, MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 93 or a self- working power, he was not called upon to show how those changes which took place in the material world might be satisfactorily accounted for. It was no part of his philosophy to demonstrate that any particular material, or combination of materials, was employed in these processes of nature for ef- fecting her productions and transmutations. All he assumes is, that some material or other is used in every instance of a physical object, to effect that con- stitution of it in which its " form" consists. From considering this question, he proceeds to examine what principles reject and exclude one another in the various changes of the material world ; these be- ing the causes of the transition of one nature into another : — the presence of one involving the priva- tien of all those forms of matter dependent on the other. What these mutually excluding principles are, he decides by a reference to the sense of touch ; that being the proper evidence to us of the existence of body, as may be inferred from its resistance to that faculty. According to this theory, the contra- rieties ascertained by touch, and which account for all the different forms of matter, are hot and cold, dry and moist ; the first two as active principles, the last two as passive. These four principles admit only of four combinations ; it being impossible that the contraries of heat and cold, or moist and dry, can co-exist. The effect of each combination is a different element ; thus, fire is a coalition of hot and dry ; air, of hot aaid moist ; earth, of cold and dry ; water, of cold 94 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. and moist. Any of these elements may pass into another by the privation of one of the combined principles ; for instance, water into air by the priva- tion of cold, and the consequent union of hot with the moist that remains. When the change is simply in the affections or attributes of some existing body, the process is that of alteration ; but when the change involves an entire transmutation of the original ma- terial, the process is that of generation and corrup- tion. Upon these complex principles did Aristotle account for all the phenomena, sensible and tangible, that take place in the material universe around us. The heavenly luminaries, as constituting a branch of physics, demanded his attention from their neces- sary connexion with the full development of his theory of motion, and in order to trace up that prin- ciple through its successive impulses from this lower world to the First Cause or Prime Mover. His whole astronomy is dependent on those speculative notions which he had adopted of lightness and heavi- ness as intrinsic and absolute properties of bodies, by which the exact position of each of the material elements was regulated in the mundane system. Fire he placed in the extreme point upwards ; earth lowest ; and in the intermediate space, air and wa- ter. On some points, his notions were tolerably cor- rect. He admits the spherical form of the earth, from the evidence of lunar eclipses, in which he had remarked that it always exhibited a curved outline and he inferred its magnitude to be not very great, MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 95 (about 37,000 miles) from the variation of horizon consequent on a slight change of our position on its surface.* But in most other respects, his views partook of the current errors of antiquity. The earth, he concluded, must be at rest, and therefore formed the centre of the universe. That the whole hea- vens were spherical, he supposed to be a necessary consequence of the perfection belonging to them : — a solid being the most perfect mathematical dimen- sion, since angular bodies would necessarily imply vacuities in space. The revolutions of the celestial bodies he con- ceived to be performed, not in consequence of a ten- dency to the centre, but of the absence of any such tendency ; — a principle directly opposite to that of modern astronomy. That they do not revolve in themselves, he considered to be evident from the fact, that the moon always presents the same side to the earth. Their motion, therefore, resulted from being carried round by revolving spheres ; the first in order being that in which the fixed stars are placed, next the five planets, then the sun, and lastly the moon nearest to the earth. This idea of the stars revolving in solemn silence, was contrary to the * It is curious how nearly Aristotle approached, but on a different principle, to Columbus's notion of a western passage to India. In his book De Coslo^ he observes, " those who supposed the region about the columns of Hercules (Gibral- tar) conjoined with that of India, and the sea to be thus one mass, seem to conceive what is not very incredible ; alleging as they did in evidence of their conclusions, that elephants were found at both extremities," 96 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. beautiful fancy of the Pythagoreans about the music of the spheres ; for, according to Aristotle, they could emit no sound as they moved with their spheres " like the parts of a ship with the ship." To account for the apparent irregularities in their motions, he ima- gined that there were as many additional spheres employed in the revolutions of each body, as it ap- peared to have different motions. The necessity of explaining what it was that im- parted to the different spheres their principle of mo- tion, led him to carry his speculations up to some ultimate cause, itself unmoved, in which they had their origin; hence the close connexion with the physical and the metaphysical philosophy of Aris- totle; and hence too the reason why he gave the lat- ter science the designation of theology. According to him, the several spheres of the heavens presented a distinct class of beings (ovo-iai) or substances, whose principle of motion he considered to be the vital energy itself in which they had their existence ; but it does not appear that he attributed to them a proper divinity in themselves, although he speaks of them as possessed of a divine nature, for he refers their perpetuity of motion to the ultimate principle or First Mover — the Deity of his system. This great first principle he regarded merely in a metaphysical point of view ; for it must be observed, that in his philosophy there is no notion of a Divinity inculcated a* the Creator and Governor of the universe ; it is merely as the sou!— the intellect — the energy — the excellence and perfection of the system that he con- MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. templates the Divine Being ; it is, in short, pure be- ing abstracted from all matter, and therefore only negatively defined as without parts or magnitude, impassable, invariable, and eternal. But whilst his system included no Providence, it has the merit of excluding the operation of chance and accident. These, he observes, are not capable of being causes of any thing ; they are merely descriptions of what takes place contrary to some presupposed design, or some tendency in nature. His theory of the soul or living principle, is more rational than that of most ancient philosophers. In accordance with the system of his physics, he wisely avoids endeavouring to refer it to any particular class of material objects; — explaining its nature as an in- stance of the union of the two principles, matter and form, in a common result. His definition thus main- tains the distinctness of body and soul as a combina- tion of two substances ; without, however, defining what the soul is in itself. From this view, it may be perceived to what extent he acknowledged the im- mortality of man. In so far as human nature is purely intellectual, he conceived it capable of exist- ing separately from matter, and in some sense di- vine ; but in so far as it consisted of passions and af- fections, he regarded it as mortal, and necessarily perishable with the body. As to the nature of that immortality which he thus attributes to the intellect, he makes no explanation ; speaking of it as a rheto- rician rather than with the precision of a philoso- 08 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. pher. His sentiments on this subject are fully stated in his book on the Soul ; and in several smaller trea- tises on the Parts and Motives of Animals, — on Per- ception,— on the Duration of Life, — Youth and Old Age, — Life and Death, — Respiration, — Memory, — Sleep, — Waking and Dreaming ; and to these may he added his book on Physiognomy, and his Trea- tise on Animals, which, though properly a work of Natural History, is also illustrative of the nature of the soul, considered as the living principle in all ani- mated beings. In Mathematics, little comparatively has been left of what Aristotle must have written. The only treatises under this head, are the Mechanical Ques- tions, and a book on Indivisible Lines. But as he had been trained in the school of Plato, whose threshold was impassable to those who had not drunk deeply at the fountain of geometry, and attained a perfect skill in the methods of mathematical investi- gation then known, we may infer that his studies in this department were as minute and extensive as in others in which more of his writings have been preserved. Of this, indeed, we require no better proof, than may be gathered from passages in his physics, in which We find him often establishing con- clusions by steps of mathematical demonstration. To this class may be referred his treatise called the Problems, containing queries chiefly on subjects be- longing to Natural Philosophy, with brief answers ; and a curious tract against the doctrines of Xeno- MEMOIR OP ARISTOTLE, 99 phanes, and Zeno the Eleatic, which shews the vast research and sagacity of his observations. He has separately discussed the nature of colours, and of the objects of hearing. He has also explained the causes of meteors, comets or bearded stars (wyu- mat), earthquakes, exhalations, clouds, rain, snow, the galaxy, the rainbow, and other phenomena of the atmosphere, in a work on Meteorology, His books on plants and minerals have perished ; but we learn from himself that he had given an account of all the different fossils and metals. He is also said to have written on Comparative Anatomy, but that work no longer remains.* It is chiefly in his character as the historian and •' interpreter of Nature that Aristotle ought to be con- templated in a work like the present. His know- ledge in this department was as varied and compre- hensive as in political and speculative science ; his object being to accumulate and digest all that was then known of the structure and productions of the earth ; and if we may judge of what is lost by what has come down to us entire, it would be no easy matter to determine whether most admiration wa§ * The treatise on Plants, edited with his works, is ac- knowledged to be by Theophrastus, whose writings, from the circumstances connected with their preservation, might naturally be confounded with those of his master. The treatise De Mundo, as also the collections of wonderful Narratives, and perhaps the Fragment on the Winds, are reckoned spurious, and have been rejected from the number of his works, the internal evidence being against their u»r puted authorship. 1 00 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. to his descriptions of the terraqueous globe, with its seas, rivers, mountains, and volcanoes ; or to his minute diligence in investigating the several ob- jects of the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms. Fortunate it is for Natural Science, that both his History of Animals, and his philosophy respecting that history, have reached us in a far more perfect state than any other portion of his physiological writings. On the subject of Zoology, his treatises were comprised in fifty books, of which twenty-five are happily preserved. It is quite immaterial to our purpose, to inquire whether this immense body of Natural knowledge is to be considered as containing the result of his own observations only, or whether it is a collection of all that had been observed by others. The latter is most probably the case ; so vast an undertaking being evidently too much for any one man to accomplish . It may seem extraor- dinary, that, in an early age, without the inventions and improvements of modern philosophy, and on a branch of science which is naturally progressive, so vast a mass of information should have been col- lected and arranged by a solitary individual, how- ever long his life, and however great his leisure. But Aristotle was the friend of a man as extraor- dinary as himself, who generously supplied him with the means of at once gratifying his taste for univer- sal learning, and conferring an invaluable benefit on posterity. The conquests of Alexander, and his marches through so many distant and different coun- MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. 101 tries, presented singular opportunities for gathering cnaterials on Zoological history ; and accordingly, Pliny informs us that some thousands of persons Were employed for this purpose, both in Greece and the East, and at an expense of £200,000. The same author labours to describe with what ardour and zeal that illustrious hero, during the course of his expedition, collected and sent to his preceptor whatever rarities were to be found in parks, or ponds, or aviaries, or hives, or were to be procured by hunt- ing, fishing, and fowling, throughout the wide ex- tent of Asia*. Such were the resources which the Stagirite had at his command for writing the His- tory of Animals, besides the assistance of a volumi- nous library, in which, no doubt, was treasured up the knowledge of preceding naturalists. By com- bining with the descriptions in his books the obser- vations of those living wonders transported from the * The following is the original passage in Pliny in re- ference to this subject i " Alexandro magno rege inflarn- mato cupidine animalium naturas noscendi, delegataque commentatione Aristoteli, summo in omni scientia viro, ali- quot millia hominum in totius Asiae Grseciaeque tractu pa- rere jussit, omnium quos venatus, aucupia, piscatusque ale- bant, quibusque vivaria, armenta, alvearia, piscinae, avi- aria, in cura erant ; ne quid usque in gentium ignoraretur ab eo, quos percontando quinquaginta ferme voluminibus ilia praeclara de animalibus condidit." — Nat. Hist. lib. viii. c. 17. The sum of 800 talents, which, according to Athe- naeus, was granted by Alexander to his preceptor for the improvement of science, maybe estimated at one-fifth part of the annual expense of the army by which that prince conquered Asia. 102 MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE. East, the recluse philosopher of Athens, while hit pupil was conquering the world, composed, in the tranquil shades of the Lycaeum, that immortal work which Pliny professed to abridge, and which Buffon despaired to rival. The History of Animals occupies nine hookvs : the remaining sixteen are employed in explaining their general affections or properties, and their prin- cipal parts or members ; viz. four treat of their se- veral parts, five of generation, and the rest of their sensations and motions, in the knowledge of which particulars he considered the philosophy of zoology chiefly to consist. As he extends that term to whatever has animal life, the first four books of his history, beginning with the outward conformation of animals, divides and distinguishes, (in comparison with the human form as that which is most fami- liarly known), the inhabitants of the earth, the water, and the air, from the enormous whale, and massy elephant, to the scarcely perceptible productions of dust and rottenness; — enumerating, with surprising accuracy, the agreements, and differences, and ana- logies, that prevail in point of external organization among all the living tribes of nature. In the three subsequent books, he examines the different classes of animals, with respect to the commencement, du- ration, and term of their generative powers. His eighth book examines their habitation and nourish- ment ; and the conclusion of the history details their manners and habits* enumerates their friends and MEMOIR OF ARISTOTLE, 103 enemies, and explains the ordinary means by which each class provides for its preservation and defence. In taking this wide survey of animated nature, Aristotle pretends not to exhaust its infinitely va- ried branches, for these defy the grasp of science ; but in the multitude of important and well as- certained facts which he relates, and which is in- comparably greater than will be found in any work of equal compass, it is his main purpose to illustrate the general heads above mentioned, and to expound the properties or affections common to the greatest or most distinguished portion of the whole animal kingdom. To these general heads or common pro- perties, he constantly has respect in the historical part of the work ; so that his minutest observations respecting the humblest and least perfectly organized animal are often found to elucidate or confirm some important law of the animal economy *. His sys- tem, inasmuch as the range of his observation was limited, was necessarily defective. The world created by the microscope had not any existence for the phi- losophers of antiquity. By means of this and other inventions, the chain of being has been extended far beyond what the unassisted eye could possibly have reached. Our wider acquaintance with the different regions of the globe, has increased our knowledge of the animal kingdom ; and our superiority in ex- perimental science has thrown new light on the struc- ture and functions of the animal economy. The ap- * Gillies's New Analysis of Aristotle's Works, voL i. p. 146. 10 and was the favourite of the little village. Yet it would never roost with the tame turkeys, but regu larly betook itself, at night, to the roof of the house, where it remained until dawn. When two years old, it began to fly to the woods, where it remained for a considerable part of the day, to return to the enclosure as night approached. One morning I saw it fly off, at a very early hour, to the woods, and took no particular notice of that circumstance. Se- veral days elapsed, but the bird did not return. I was going towards some lakes near Green River to shoot, when, having walked about five miles, I saw a fine large gobbler cross the path before me, moving leisurely along. Turkeys being then in prime con- dition for the table, I ordered my dog to chase it, and put it up. The animal went off with great ra* pidity, and, as it approached the turkey, I saw, with great surprise, that the latter paid little attention. Juno was on the point of seizing it, when she sud- denly stopped, and turned her head towards me. I hastened to them, but you may easily conceive my surprise, when I saw my own favourite bird, and discovered that it had recognised the dog, and would not fly from it, although the sight of a strange dog would have caused it to run off at once/' The second species of Turkey is MKl.lvAC.K'IS OCKI.LATA. ( The OceUateiTtirkey ) iy o£ HorAiras. 143 THE OCELLATED TURKEY. Meleagris ocellata. — CUVIER. PLATE III. Bleleagris ocellata, Cuvier, Memoires du Museum^ vi. pi. 1. —Dindon ocelli, Temminck.PL Coloriees, pi. 112 — Hon. duras Turkey, Latham, General History of Birds., viii. p. 12'J. THIS splendid and curious bird was first described by the Baron Cuvier in the Memoires du Museum, from the specimen which graced the collection of Mr Bullock, and which, at the dispersion of that va- luable museum, was purchased by the French Go- vernment ; and we believe that it is still the only specimen known to exist in any collection. The bird was taken by the crew of a vessel, who were cutting wood in the Bay of Honduras. Three specimens were seen, and they succeeded in captur- ing one of them alive, which was sent to Sir Henry Halford, but, meeting with an accident in the Thames, it died before being delivered, and that gentleman presented it to Mr Bullock for his exhibition in the Egyptian Hall, then in all its splendour, and the finest in Britain. Nothing was recorded of its ha- bits and it is not known whether the tail is capable 14-4 THE OCELLATED TURKEY. of being- expanded as in tTie common species. The following is nearly the description, taken from that of Temminck. " In size it is nearly equal to the common tur- key, but the tail is not so ample. The bill is of the same form, and the base with a caruncle, which is ap- parently capable of the same dilatations and contrac- tions with that of its congener. The head and two- thirds of the neck are naked, and appear of the same livid colour, but without any trace of the fleshy tuhei • cles on the lower part, which are so prominent a fea- ture in the physiognomy of the common turkey. The only appearance of any is five or six above each eye, five upon the centre of the crown, and upon the sides of the neck six or seven, arranged in a line above each other, and at nearly equal distances. Upon the breast there was no trace of the tuft of hair, but the plumage was somewhat damaged, and the knowledge of other specimens must decide whether this character is also present in this bird. The form of the feathers is rounded at the ends ; those of the lower part of the neck, the upper part of the back scapulars, and all the lower part of the body, are of a bronzed green, terminated by two bands, the one black, and the next, or that next the tip, of a golden bronze colour ; on the other parts of the back, the distribution of the colours is the same, but as they approach the coverts of the tail, the tints become more vivid, the bronzed part becomes of a rich blue, or emerald-green, according to the change of light,. THE OCELLATED TURKEY. 145 and the outer band becomes broader, assumes a more golden lustre, and upon the rump, being tinted with red, the shades become similar in beauty to the throat of the ruby-crested humming-bird; the bright- ness of this border becomes still more striking, being separated from the blue by a band of deep velvetty black. The base of each feather on those parts con- cealed, is gray, mottled with black ; upon the tail and upper coverts, this gray part becomes apparent, and the marks assume the form of bars, one of whicn, immediately succeeding the blue band, surrounds it, and makes each feather appear eyed or ocellated. From the distribution of the tail-coverts and lower feathers of the rump, there are four rows with these eyed tips, where the gray basal half of the feathers is visible, and which combines very chastely, or keeps down as it were the lustre of the others. The tail is rounded at the end, and only contains fourteen feathers. The lower parts of the body are banded with bronze black and green, but without the bril- liant lustre of the upper parts. The quills and bas- tard pinions are broad, bordered obliquely with white, which almost entirely occupies the outer margin of the first. The secondaries have the outer webs pure white, the bands in the centre not appearing when the wings are closed ; the uppermost are blotched in the centre with black, having a green lustre, which, as the plumes shorten, expands more 146 THE OCELLATED TURKEY. over their surface, leaving the last with the edge only white. The greater coverts are chestnut. The feet and legs are of a rich lake or purplish red. 147 GENUS PAVO — LINNIEUS. THIS form or genus is typical of the family witli which we are now employed, and should most pro- perly have been placed first. It is at once charac- terized by the very great development of the upper tail-coverts, or train, as they are called, which it is en- abled to raise and spread in a circle by means of the true tail, composed of strong and powerful feathers. There are only two species known; both inhabit the Continent and Islands of India, and they present a plumage certainly the most splendid among the whole feathered world. Their frequency in our barn- yards has accustomed us to this splendour ; but when the question comes really to be asked, " Which is the most splendid bird ?" we shall be able to find no competitor ; there are many birds which have tints more exquisite for their delicacy, or more dazzlingly brilliant, but none present such a mass of gorgeous adornment as the Peacock. The splendour of such a bird could not be seen without attracting attention, and we accordingly find it mentioned at a very early period. The earliest notice of it will perhaps be found in the Bible ; it at- tracted the notice of the mariners of Solomon, who, in their southern expedition, among many other pro- ductions of nature, carried these birds to their royaj master. We afterwards lose sight of it until discovered 148 THE PEACOCK. +*f the army of Alexander, who felt such admiration *br it, as to order the infliction of a severe penalty upon its destroyers. Hence it found its way to Greece, and Rome, and Europe generally, and had to perform its part in the luxurious entertainments of the ancients, while it was thought worthy of De- ing dedicated to the royal Juno, and of being hand- ed down to posterity upon the coinage of the coun- tries. At an early period of English history, when the baronial entertainments were characterized by grandeur and pompous ceremonies, approaching near- ly to the magnificence of royalty, there was scarcely any noble feast without " pecokkes," which were stuffed with spices and sweet herbs, roasted and served up whole, and covered, after dressing, with the skin and feathers. In our own times, both the young and the eggs are often seen at the tables of the opulent. They are also reared as picturesque accessaries for the park or lawn, in which they will breed and rear their young without assistance, and with a little attention only during winter. In their native countries, superb dresses and shades are made of the skins and train, and, adorned with pre- cious stones, form a fitting accompaniment to the magnificence and show of Eastern manners. Peacock-shooting is a favourite amusement in In- dia, where, in some parts, they are extremely abun- *^ant. " About the passes in the Jungletery district," says Colonel Williamson, " I have seen such quan- tities of pea-fowls as have absolutely surprised me. THE PEACOCK. 149 Whole woods were covered with their beautiful plu- mage, to which a rising sun imparted additional bril- liancy. The small patches of plain among the long grass, most of them cultivated, and with mustard then in bloom, which induced the birds to feed, in- creased the beauty of the scene ; and I speak with- in bounds when I assert, that there could not be less than twelve or fifteen hundred pea-fowls, of various sizes, within sight of the spot where I stood for near an hour. u When they are in -numbers scattered in a jungle, it is easy to get a shot ; but I have always found much difficulty when the birds flock together, as they frequently do, to the amount of forty or fifty. At such times it is not easy to raise them. They run remarkably fast, and I doubt whether a heavy spaniel or pointer could raise them. When on the wing, they fly heavy and strong, generally within an easy shot ; but if only winged, they speedily recover, and, if not closely pursued, will nine times in ten disappear. These plantations are their favourite shelter, being close above, so as to keep off the solar rays, and open at the bottom sufficiently to admit a free passage for the air. If there be trees near such spots, the peacock may be seen mounting into them every evening towards dusk to roost, and in which they generally continue till the sun rises, when they descend to feed, and pass the midday in the heavy covers. They are very jealous of all quadrupeds, especially of dogs ; and when peacocks are discover- 150 THE PEACOCK. ed on a tree situate on a plain, if a dog be loose and hunt near it, the bird will rarely move from its situa- iion, though it will probably shew extreme uneasi- ness. " It will appear curious, but it is very certain," continues the Colonel, " that peacocks have often been hunted and run down by horsemen. The wings of a peacock are by no means proportioned to the weight of its body and limbs ; besides, they are not accustomed to long flights, and are soon out of wind. When a bird is discovered in a tree standing in a plain, which is frequently the case when game is abundant, a person mounted on a tolerably active and governable horse, provided with a lash whip, may, after keeping as near as possible during thp first flight, and urging the bird, when it alights, to its utmost exertion, so completely fatigue it, as to find some opportunity for whipping, and perhaps entangle the whip so as to obtain a complete com- mand." The same has been noticed in the account of the Wild Turkey ; but we should consider the opportunities for practising such a chase very un- common, and that the instances of escape will per- haps exceed those of capture. Peacocks are frequently found entirely white. This variety occurs, according to Temminck, in a wild state as well as in domestication, and is not caused, as was alleged by some, from being transport- ed from a warm to a temperate and even cold cli- mate. If, however, we may judge from the analogy THE PEACOCK. 151 of other gallinaceous birds, this colour is much more frequent in domestication than in its native country. Pied varieties are also sometimes seen ; and when the deep blue of the neck and breast is contrasted frith pure white, they form a beautiful and much sought for state among collectors for a menagerie. In the white variety, the feathers, from retaining their structure, exhibit all the markings of the tail and other parts distinctly, according as the light fall* upon them. To illustrate this genus we have fi- gured 152 THE JAVANESE PEACOCK. Pavo muticus — LINNAEUS. PLATE IV. Pavo Javanensis, U. Aldrovandus^ Ornithologia, ii. p. 33- 34 — Pavo muticus, Linnaeus. — Shawls Naturalist's Mis- cellany Japan Peacock, Latham^ General Hist, of Birds, viii. p. 116. — Pavos speciferus, Vieillot^ Galerledes Oiseaux* pi. 202 — Paon specifere, Temminck, Histoire Natur. des Pigeons et Gallinaces, ii. p. 56 — Pavo Juvanicus, Hors- field^ Transactions of Linn. Society ', xiii. p. 185. — The Al- drovandine Peacock, Pavo Aldrovandi, Wilson''* Illustra- tions of Zoology, plates xiv. and xv. THE history of this very beautiful species is yet little known, though specimens of it, both preserved for the museum, and also alive, are now much more frequently brought to this country, and there can be little doubt, that attention would soon render it as frequent in our barn-yards as the common spe- cies. The first notice of this bird is in the voluminous work of Ulysses Aldrovandus, who has given two of his peculiar figures of it, and which at once indi- cate the species by the form of the crest. These were taken from drawings sent by the Emperor of Japan to the Pope, and served for the ground-work 154 THE JAVANESE PEACOCK. the yellow skin which surrounds the eyes. The fol- io wing is a more detailed description of a beautiful specimen in the Edinburgh Museum, from which our illustration is taken. This bird is nearly similar in size to the common peacock, but the whole plumage is of more sub- dued brilliancy. The principal distinction is io the form of the feathers of the crest, which, instead of a nearly bare shaft, and round moon at the tip, as in the common peacock, are lengthened, webbed from the base nearly of an equal breadth, and com- pared by Temminck to the tail of the long-tailed titmouse. The bare space upon the cheeks, and round the eyes, is of a fine gamboge-yellow. The head, neck, and fore part of the breast, are of a peculiar greenish tint, being brilliant, with golden reflections in some lights ; in others appearing dull and subdued. The lower parts are of a dull deep greenish brown, instead of the rich blue of the well known bird. The train is not so ample in proportion, and the eyes or moons are less nume- rous ; the centre of each is rich blue, encircled with green, brown, and finally with a bronzed ring. The shoulders and wing-coverts are without the beau- tifully waved appearance of the common peacock, and are of a deep blue. The edge of the wing and quills are pale yellowish-red. A gradual change from the young state to the full plumage takes place, and it is the third moult before the complete train is displayed. 155 GENUS POLYPLECTRON, TEMM. THIS genus was established by Temminck, from the 1'Eperoime of Buffon, the Peacock Pheasant of Edwards and Sonnerat, the Pavo bicalcaratus and Tibetanus of Gmelin's Linnaeus. We think there is no doubt that both this species and that of our Plate VI. was known to Gmelin ; while the repre- sentations of Buffon and Sonnerat might have been taken from either. Prior ornithologists retained these birds with the peacocks, and that place is as- signed to it in the last edition of Cuvier's Regne Animal. Since the institution of the genus, how- ever, the P. Tibetanus has been examined, and two additional birds have been discovered, which agree with the characters assigned to the type, and all dif- fer from the peacocks in the modifications from which Temminck has proposed to form his distinctions. They inhabit the Indian Islands or China, and seem almost equally hardy with the peacock, living and thriving well in confinement ; and, if they could be procured in sufficient numbers to ensure a stock, would form a most lovely addition to the ornamen- tal poultry-yard. The chief distinction is in the form of the tail ; it is rounded and very ample ; the feathers stiff, and forming a plane surface. It is 156 THE POLYPLECTRON. never erected, like that of the two preceding genera, but is capable of a very wide expansion. It has also what its describers term the upper range of feathers. These cover the first half of the tail ; and if the lower range or true tail were removed, the upper would appear to an unaccustomed observer to be perfect, and the only feathers belonging to this organ. An- other singularity is in the tarsi being generally fur- nished with two spurs upon each, sometimes three, and, in a few instances, three on one leg, and two only on that opposite. The cheeks are covered with feathers, and the whole plumage is perfectly different in structure from that of the true peacocks. The fourth species (Plate VII.) varies in the form of the tail, which becomes much more lengthened, the shape of the feathers resembling somewhat those of the next genus to be described. We shall first no- tice that which seems to have been the species first known, or brought to Europe ; it is the ARGUS POLYPLECTRON. Potyplectron bicalcaratum — TEMMINC K. Pavo bicalcaratus, Linnaeus^ Gmelin. — Polyplectron bical- caratum, Eperonnier argus, Temminck. — Le Paon de Ma- lacca, Sonnerat. It is evident from the characters given by Gmelin, that two species of this genus were known, the species ARGUS POLYPLECTRON 157 we are about to describe, and the P.chinquis of Tem- minck, for which the old name of Tibetanus should be retained. The length of the Argus polyplectron is about 18 or 19 inches. The feathers of the fore- head are lengthened to a crest, are large, of a brown- ish-black, and marked with white at the base. All the rest of the head and neck is covered with short feathers, of a dull black. The throat is whitish ; and the cheeks and space surrounding the eyes is freer from feathers than those parts in the remaining spe- cies. The back, scapularies, and wing- coverts, are of a yellowish-brown, thickly sprinkled with black spots, and having at the tip of each feather an eyed spot of a rich bluish-green. The breast, belly, vent, and thighs, are umber-brown, having the shafts white. The quills are dull brown. The tail, composed of two ranges of feathers, and rounded, is of the same colour with the back, thickly mottled with black, and has the tip of each feather rufous, blotched with deep black. Near the end of each feather are the two beautiful eye-like spots, of a brilliant green, placed close together, and surrounded with a circle of black. This bird, which is far from being common, is a native of Malacca ; most probably also China and the Indian Islands. It may be easily distinguished from the P. Tibetanus, its nearest ally, by the less size, the comparative bareness of the cheeks, its larger crest, and the different form of the feathers compos- 158 ARGUS POLYPLECTRON. fag it, and by the eye-like spots being much smaller, and surrounded only by a ring of black. Our next Plate will give an idea of the general form of these birds. That which follows of the beautiful ocellated distribution of the markings of the plumage ; our first is i L, A i r, PO I.VI'I.K C TK 0 N E M I >' AN 0 M. ITatiTe of the Molucca islands . * DIVERSITY rus, Temminck, Histoire Naturelle des Pigeons et Galli~ naces, ii. 349 — Horned Pheasant, Latham's General His- tory^ viii. p. 208 — Tragopan satyrus, Cuvier, Regne Ani- mal, i. p. 479 — Gould's Century. IN looking over the various ornithological works in our possession for the history of these beautiful birds, we have been able to find literally nothing ; their habits are completely unknown, or not touch- ed upon. They seem confined to the more alpine regions, reach the limit of snow, and the present species has been brought from Thibet and Nepaul ; the next has been received from Himalaya. It would be of great importance to ornithologists, if notes were made regarding all the birds composing this genus, Euplocomus and Lophophorus. Until we know a little more regarding them, it is impossible to assign to them with any certainty a place in any system. This bird is about the size of a large domestic fowl. The bare ekin is of a bright bluish-purple. THE HORNED TRAGOPAN. 223 The feathers on the crown are lengthened, of a dis- united texture, and are of a purplish-black, becom- ing deep crimson-red at the occiput. The back of the neck and bare skin in front are surrounded with deep black. The upper part of the back, neck, and all the under parts, are of a deep purplish cinnamon - red ; the wings and upper parts of an umber brown, and the tip of each feather has an ocellated spot of white ; these are largest and most conspicuous upon the flanks. The tail is rounded, but almost con- cealed by the tail-coverts, which are very ample, and spread over it in two ranges, each with a very con- spicuous and white spot. The tarsi are spurred. We have not seen the female of this species, bnt Dr Latham describes it as nearly similar to the male, but having the colours less bright. If this is correct, there must be a considerable difference from this and the female of the next species, figured by Mr Gould, which almost resembles that of Lophophorus. 224 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED TRAGOPAN. Tragopan Hastingii — GOULD. PLATE XXV. MALE— PLATE XXVI. FEMALE. Tragopan Hastingii, Gould's Century. THIS is another very beautiful species, about the same size with the last, and figured and described by Mr Gould in his Himalayan Century. The horns and wattles are of the same bluish-purple. The crown is furnished with a lengthened crest of the same kind of disunited or hairy-looking feathers, pure black : the back of the neck, upper part of the back and shoulders, are of a deep uniform purplish- red : the wings, and whole of the upper parts, ex- cept the tail-coverts, are of a deep wood-brown, each feather having an ocellated spot of white, sur- rounded with black, most prominently conspicuous on the lower part of the back arid tips of the se- condaries. Immediately below the naked wattles there is a patch of brilliant golden -orange ; the f ,athers composing it narrow and lengthened, and >f a hard horny consistence, their points disumti stretching over, and very conspicuous upon the de black which covers the rest of the under par TR \<;<) PAN \ i. VST i M; 1 1 GOLDEN-BREASTED TRAGOPAN. 225 The tips of each feather covering the breast and belly are marked with a large white spot, with the dark shaft running through. The tail is black, clouded with brown ; the coverts do not extend so far over it as in the last, and are of a yellowish- white, with a narrow bar of black at the tip of each. The female given by Mr Gould, and represented on our Plate XXVI. is entirely of a dull umber- brown, marked with a variety of dark bars and waves. The feathers of the hind head are of the usual tex- ture, and are slightly lengthened behind. Neither wattles nor horns are apparent. Our next Plate represents a modification of this form in 226 BLACK-HEADED TRAGOPAN. Tragopan melanocephalus. — GRAF. PLATE XXVII. Satyra melanocephalus, Gray's Illustrations of Zoology. MR GRAY has given a representation of this bird in his Illustrations, from one of General Hardwick's drawings. It differs from the others in the want of any naked appendages to the head or throat, and in the head having a large crest, which is represented rising from the crown in erect feathers, with dis- united wehs, from the nostrils to the hind head : it is of a deep black, inclining to purple at the tip, and the whole of the head, cheeks, and throat are of the same colour, whence Mr Gray has taken his spe- cific name. The plumage bears a strong resemblance to the others, but we can give no detailed descrip- tion of it, or any information regarding its habits. A fourth species is also figured by Mr Gray, under the name of Satyra Pennantii, which is the last of the known species belonging to this division. 1M.ATK 11. TltA(;or A.V ,\I]',I, AXOCE I'll AMIS. 227 GENUS NUMIDA, Linnaus. THE last form which we have to describe in this Family is the Guinea Fowl, as they are generally termed, constituting the genus Numida of Lin- naeus. It contains only three or four species, all na- tives of Africa, and some of them were known to the ancients. During the zenith of the Roman Empire they bore a high value at the public feasts, and with its decline were for a time Jost to Europe, to which they were again most probably introduced by the early Spanish navigators. Their plumage is very ample, their form compact and huddled together, and more formed for abode on the ground than for flight. The bill is curved and strong. They are gregarious* and roost on trees. We have figured as examples THE COMMON GUINEA FOWL. Numida muleagris — LINNAEUS. PLATE XXIX. Numida meleagris, Linnaeus, Latham. — Peintade, Buffon. — Peintade Mdldagride, Temminck, Pigeons et Gallinaoit9 ii. p. 431 — Guinea Pintado, Latham, General History. riii. p. 144. THIS beautiful but rathef clumsily formed bird is very generally known. As its name proclaims, it is a native principally of the Guinea coast, although it is also found in various other parts of Africa, and is mentioned by both Sparman and Le Vaillant as oc- curring near the Cape of Good Hope. They are difficult to raise from the ground, but, when pressed, fly with a powerful flight, and for a considerable distance. They live in flocks, the amount of their broods, but at some seasons assemble in hundreds, when their noise in going to roost upon the tree* is grating, and almost stunning. In this country they are kept in the poultry-yard, both for the sake of their young and eggs ; but being very quarrelsome to other poultry, and possessing great strength, they have often to be sacrificed to the pre- servation of the rest, or to be separately confined, 230 COMMON GUINEA FOWL. Several attempts have been made to turn them out in preserves, but this has never been persevered in, from their driving away and persecuting every other game. The plumage sometimes varies in being pure white. Another species is described under the name of the Mitred Guineafowl, N. mitrata* It is said to be found in Madagascar, and is very closely allied to the common bird, differing chiefly in the ground colour of the plumage being darker, and in the spots being larger. The cry and habits are nearly similar. REMARKS ON THE ARRANGEMENT. 231 WE have now seen most of the members of this useful family; but, as we mentioned at the commencement, they are ndt arranged in the order they should properly stand. This, even now, we may be unable to do as we should finally desire, having not had an opportunity of examining minutely all the forms, or of arranging the other families which compose this order ; but the fol- lowing short table will serve as some guide how they should be placed. The Rasores, or third order of birds, contains the families Pavonidce, Tetraonidce, Cracidce, Struthioni- dce, Columbidce. The family Pavonidce contains the genera and sub- genera. PAVO. Meleagris. Polyplectron. Argus. PHASIANUS. Callus. EUPLOCOMUS? LOPHOPHORUS. Tragopan. NUMIDA. These are the genera at present established; it is, however, probable, that one or two sub-genera will still be found necessary, particularly in Phasianus. The opinions regarding whether Pavo or Phasianus 232 REMARKS ON THE ARRANGEMENT. should stand as the typical form, are at variance among our ornithologists. Mr. Vigors, in his arrangement, proposes the latter, Mr. Swanson Pavo, which for the present we have adopted. Looking at the forms of both, we find the tarsus and foot of nearly equal pro- portional strength, the hallux articulated above the plane of the foot, but in Pavo proportionably shorter, and the nail short. In this form, also, flight, from the unwieldiness of the plumage, is seldom resorted to, except in extremities ; and the tail cannot be used in directing it. In Phasianus flight is often resorted to, and is powerful, though not capable of being long sus- tained, and the tail is used in directing it : it therefore deviates more from the peculiarities of the order. The other forms are more difficult to fix. We are uncer- tain, whether Euplocomus should not only form a sub -genus of Lophophorus, and of the situation of Tragopan. In both, the attributes of flight and perching are more extensively used. Numida, again, seems to connect the next family, by its alliance to the partridges, in the form of the tail and feet, harsh cry, and general habits. The more extensive examination of the whole order, will, we trust, enable us, ere long, to solve all these difficulties ; and we now prefer mentioning them as they have occurred, to leaving them altogether un- noticed. At the conclusion of this volume, it has occurred to us, that a few observations on the more Common and Useful Varieties of POULTRY, and the POULTRY YARD, might not be unacceptable. THE name Poultry is derived from the French word Poulet, and comprehends all the domestic varieties which we are in the habit of rearing for the table, whether they be Land or Water Birds. COMMON OR BARN-DOOR FOWL, AND TURKEY. THE most approved breed of the Common Fowl, is procured from the Dorking Cock, crossed with any Domestic Hen. The Dorking is very frequently dis- tinguished by the peculiarity of possessing five toes on each foot, by their pure white colour, and their supe- rior plumpness, with delicacy of flavour and whiteness in the flesh. Black or Speckled Hens are, however, esteemed better layers, and, in our experience, are less inclined to sit than most other varieties ; which is par- ticularly the case with the black breed of Poland. 234 When the rearing of Poultry is entered upon, on a moderate scale, care should be taken to select a warm well sheltered apartment, for their lodging in during the night, and for placing the nests for laying their eggs in. The nests, for the purpose of laying in, may be arranged in tiers, one above another, in chequers, and may be constructed of wood, filled with straw or hay, once a-week — cleanliness in this and every particular being very essential. They should have a foot-board in front, for the purpose of the birds perching easily into them, and a fillet in front, to hold in the straw ; and the situation in the apartment ought to be darkish rather than light, on account that Hens do not like to be disturbed in this operation. They should also be supplied with a ladder or stick, to assist them in perch- ing up, as care should be taken not to injure the bird in its passage to the nest, when about to deposit her egg- Nests prepared for the business of incubation, should have moveable gratings to place before them, to pre- vent the intrusion of other Hens while the mother is sitting. This grating must be taken off in the morning, when the other Fowls in the yard are being fed, the noise of which operation will, in general, excite the mother to rise and feed also ; but should she delay to get off her eggs, she may be removed carefully, and placed near to the feeding board, when, after having AND TURKEY. 235 satisfied herself, she will return to the nest, and the grating is to be replaced. She will not require food again till next morning at the same time. In this manner we have attended to half a dozen Hens and a couple of Turkeys, engaged in the process of incuba- tion at the same time ; the operation of removing and replacing the whole, not occupying more than half an hour each morning, and the birds, without the least confusion, all again set upon their respective nests. The attention incident upon these creatures at this time is very interesting; in a day or two, they become so familiar, as to permit themselves to be handled with- out fear, apparently conscious that no harm is meant ; and as the period when the ehick is destined to emerge from the shell approaches, they become more cautious and solicitous, that no injury shall befal the tender cases which envelope their future hopes. The time which a Common Hen sits is twenty-one days, that of a Turkey and Duck about twenty-nine or thirty days. On the day previous to being hatched, the chirp of the bird in the shell proclaims, both to the attendant and parent, that the young are about to make ap- pearance ; and, on the day following, if all goes well, the whole brood will be found rolling amongst broken fragments of their late frail tenements. The mother is, at this juncture, to be handled with very great care and tenderness ; she is to be removed to the feeding board, 236 COMMON OR BARN-DOOR FOWL, where her anxiety will only permit of a very momen- tary absence, during which the shells are to be removed, and a small quantity of fine meadow hay inserted into the bottom of the nest, the chicks being previously held in a small basket till the return of the parent, who in- stinctively makes for and occupies her former abode, no doubt sufficiently alarmed at the apparent absence of her young, but which fear is soon removed, by their being placed one by one under her. We have re- peatedly experienced the value of this precaution, in saving the chicks from being overlaid, through the rest- less anxiety of the mother, to secure the brood under her fostering wings, after feeding herself. It is of great consequence to have a proper quantity of dry sand or ashes near the feeding-board, in which the sitters may rub themselves, in order to disengage any vermin adhering to their bodies, causing such rest- lessness, as in some cases to induce them to desert their charge ; and along with this requisite, water in abun- dance must be provided. We quote, from the interesting work of M. Bucknell, Esq., the following account of the progressive stages of life, as developed in the egg of a Common Hen : — - On the third day the embryo organization of the skull, brain, heart, and blood, is perceptible by the aid of a magnifying glass. AND TURKEY. 237 Fourth day — The pulsation of the heart is distin- guishable by the naked eye. Sixth day — The chief vessels and organs rudimen- tally formed; the pulsation and circulation of blood apparent. Ninth day — Intestines and veins formed, and the deposition of flesh and bony substance commenced; the beak for the first time opens. Twelfth day — The feathers have protruded; the skull has become cartilaginous ; and the first voluntary movement of the chick is made. Fifteenth day — Organs, vessels, bones, feathers, closely approaching in appearance to the natural state. Eighteenth day — Vital mechanism nearly developed, and the first sign of life heard from the piping chick. Twenty-first day — The chicks break the shell, and in two or three hours are quite active and lively. We have perused various modes of tending and feeding the young brood, upon its first appearance, but have found none more successful than the following : — The parent is to be removed, along with the young, to a box or other receptacle, under cover, about four or five feet square, and eighteen inches deep. She, with the brood, are to be placed in a small coop, inside the box, so that she may be secured from treading upon them. A little soft hay should be put into the coop, and some dry sand or earth in a corner of the box, and the food placed within reach of both. 238 The coop may be constructed in the following man- ner : — A wooden frame, of eighteen inches square, with one door in front, in two halves, in the form of a grat- ing, to permit of the chicks getting easily out and in for their food, &c., and another door, outside of that, for shutting all in at night. Our own wooden frames are covered with coarse canvass, which is both lighter and cooler, than if constructed altogether of boards. For Turkeys the dimensions must be proportionally larger — about two feet square — formed in the same way. To prevent the other Poultry having access to the young brood, there should be a grating in front of the coop, in which the food and water is to be placed, and, in the course of the first or second day, the chicks will find their way to both. The vessel containing the water should, of course, be very shallow, with a few pebbles placed in it to prevent the birds getting wet — precautions which, although obvious, are sometimes not thought upon. Being economists in our way, we have constructed very suitable coops out of old tea-chests. At this stage of life many are the odd condiments recommended ; but the food should consist of coarse oat meal, or bruised grits, for the chicks, with oats for the mother. In a few days, a little soft boiled rice may be mixed with the meal, and they will have no objection to a few small worms, and a little chick-weed occa- sionally. We kave fed our Turkeys most successfully AND TURKEY. 239 in the same way, with only substituting bread and milk, instead of worms ; and chopped cresses or turnip shaws, in place of the chick-weed. Both will be the better of a little fine gravel and some particles of lime thrown in their way. Generally speaking, the chicks should only get into their power such a supply of food at a time as they can nearly consume at once ; for if more is placed before them, it is trodden down and wasted ; but care should be taken that they receive that little very often — at least five or six times a-day. The chicks of Common Fowls should not get out of the box for at least a fort- night, and Turkeys fully three weeks, during which time the parents are mostly to be confined to the coop, unless the weather be very fine, in which case both may be permitted a little liberty. • The Turkey is generally thought to be a tender bird when young, and difficult to be reared, although in our experience this is not the case. Our breed is the pure white variety; and, the first season, the hen hatcheo and brought to full maturity fifteen birds. In her second year, she and one of her daughters reared about thirty, which were fed up to full size. The old lady deserted during the existence of the charge, and com- menced laying eggs, which were consumed in the family. This is the third season, and the mother and daughter, at its commencement, very early in spring, 240 COMMON OR BARN-DOOR FOWIt hatched only nineteen between them. The old bird again deserted her young, having handed over her charge to the junior parent, after which she laid and hatched twelve eggs, nine of which are all, at present, strong healthy birds, with every promise of being brought to full maturity of size. In the successful management of this bird, much de- pends upon continued care in keeping them perfectly dry and warm, particularly during wet, moist, or hazy weather, with very frequent small supplies of the food already recommended. When they come to be about full size, they will be found to be even more hardy, and stronger than other common poultry, frequently roost- ing upon trees, in the open air, during the night, and braving the roughest and most inclement weather with impunity. It is 'singular, and very interesting, to contemplate the quick-sightedness of the chick, about two or three weeks old, in capturing flies, and all sorts of small insects, as articles of food, while they are needling their tiny bodies through the grass, or brushwood of any kind. We were this season much amused, while watching our beautiful little brood stripping off the small green insects which were infesting our rose bushes. We have already said, that we have found simple food most advisable for these birds when young, and we cannot refrain from deprecating the use of all AND TURKEY. 241 pungent articles, such as pepper, of all sorts. Chopped nettles are also recommended, but will be found a most annoying food. We, on one occasion, ventured upon a trial of them ; but we shall never forget the pain which was produced in the mouths of these tender little crea- tures, from the sting of this noxious weed. Some sort of net or grating should cover in the box, to prevent the Hen, when out of the coop, from leaping or flying over, in her restless anxiety, which increases daily, until set at large with her little brood. The box may either be placed in the open air or in the house, according to the state of the weather and season of the year. We have said, that a board should be used for placing the- food upon, whatever it may consist of, being preferable, in our opinion, to a trough, in which the food is apt to get sour, while the board does not labour under that objection, and can be readily cleaned. All descriptions of Poultry are the better of being fed up generously from the very shell, and we prefer the flesh of those brought up at large, to those which are artificially fed, or crammed, as the phrase is. We have found a mixture, neither too moist nor too dry, of boiled potatoes and barley, or pease meal, equal parts, excellent feeding, either for producing eggs, or good sound flesh for the table; and this mixture seems to suit all varieties, whether Land or Water Poultry : it 242 COMMON OR BARN-DOOR FOWL, has the recommendation of being easily and universally procurable, and not over expensive; and, with this, one feed of good corn, in the middle of the day, will be advisable and sufficient. In the absence of potatoes, the two sorts of meal just mentioned, with a third part of sharps or fine bran, will make a suitable mess. The Poultry Yard should be enclosed in such a man- ner, as to render it convenient for confining the birds when required ; but the more they are at liberty be- yond its narrow range, the better for their health at all times, on account of the quantity of green food and insects, requisite to make up their proper nourishment. Before dismissing this portion of our subject, and commencing with a short account of the Domestic Water Fowls, we quote the following from the work of the celebrated White of Selborne : — " In so extensive a subject, sketches and outlines are as much as can be expected ; for it would be endless to instance, in all the infinite variety of the feathered na- tion. We shall, therefore, confine the remainder of this letter to the few Domestic Fowls of our yards, which are most known, and therefore best understood. And first, the Peacock, with his gorgeous train, demands our atten- tion ; but, like most of the gaudy birds, his notes are grating and shocking to the ear : the yelling of cats, and the braying of an ass, are not more disgustful. The voice of the Goose is trumpet-like and clanking ; and AND TURKEY. 243 one saved the Capitol of Rome, as grave historians as- sert : the hiss also of the Gander is formidable and full of menace, and * protective of his young.' Among Ducks the sexual distinction of voice is remarkable; for, while the quack of the female is loud and sonorous, the voice of the Drake is inward and harsh, and feeble, and scarce discernible. The Cock Turkey struts and gobbles to his mistress in a most uncouth manner; he hath also a pert and petulant note when he attacks his adversary. When a Hen Turkey leads forth her young brood, she keeps a watchful eye; and if a bird of prey appear, though ever so high in the air, the careful mother announces the enemy with a little inward moan, and watches him with a steady and attentive look ; but, if he approach, her note becomes earnest and alarming, and her outcries are redoubled. " No inhabitants of a yard seem possessed of such a variety of expression, and so copious a language, as Common Poultry. Take a chicken, of four or five days old, and hold it up to a window where there are flies, and it will immediately seize its prey, with little twitterings of complacency; but if you tender it a wasp or a bee, at once its note becomes harsh, and expressive of dis- approbation and a sense of danger. When a Pullet is ready to lay, she intimates the event by a joyous and easy soft note. Of all the occurrences of their life, that of laying seems to be the most important ; for no sooner has a Hen disburdened herself, than she rushes 244 COMMON OR BARN-DOOR FOWL, forth with a clamorous kind of joy, which the Cock and the rest of his mistresses immediately adopt. The tumult is not confined to the family concerned, but catches from yard to yard, and spreads to every home- stead within hearing, till at last the whole village is in an uproar. As soon as a Hen becomes a mother, her new relation demands a new language ; she then runs clocking and screaming about, and seems agitated as if possessed. The father of the flock has also a conside- rable vocabulary; if he finds food, he calls a favourite concubine to partake ; and if a bird of prey passes over, with a warning voice he bids his family beware. The gallant chanticleer has, at command, his amorous phrases and his terms of defiance. But the sound by which he is best known, is his crowing : by this he has been distinguished in all ages as the countryman's clock or larum, as the watchman that proclaims the divi- sions of the night. Thus the poet elegantly stiles him : ' '• • ' the crested Cock whose clarion sounds The silent hours.' " A neighbouring gentleman, one summer, had lost most of his chickens by a Sparrow-hawk, that came glid- ing down between a faggot pile and the end of his house to the place where the coops stood. The owner, inwardly vexed to see his flock thus diminishing, hung a setting net adroitly between the pile and the house, into which the caitif dashed, and was entangled. Re- sentment suggested the law of retaliation ; he there- AND TURKEY. 245 fore clipped the Hawk's wings, cut off his talons, and fixing a cork on his bill, threw him down among the brood-hens. Imagination cannot paint the scene that ensued; the expressions that fear, rage, and revenge inspired, were new, or at least such as had been unno- ticed before : the exasperated matrons upbraided, they execrated, they insulted, they triumphed. In a word, they never desisted from buffetting their adversary till they had torn him in a hundred pieces." 246 THE PEA FOWL. WE cannot, in this place, resist the opportunity now afforded, of noting down some circumstances which fell under our own observation, regarding the sagacity of a favourite Pea Hen, generally supposed a very wild bird : — In her third year, and very early in spring, the weather being most unsettled and stormy, she com- menced the process of depositing her eggs, the first of which she dropped in a situation perfectly open and unprotected, the consequence of which, as might have been expected, was its immediate destruction by the Magpies. Of this blasting of her hopes, however, she was unconscious ; and she sat perched, during a fearful night, upon the naked branch of a high tree, watching over the precious deposit. Next day she soon dis- covered her loss, and immediately selected a more secluded spot for her future operations, in the imme- diate view, and about fifty yards from our dwelling- house. We used the precaution to cover this second egg with the dried leaves of the beech tree. The third day she not only deposited another egg, but added some more leaves -herself, which we encouraged sparingly, THE PEA FOWL. 247 lest we should cause her to desert her charge. Six eggs were in this way deposited and secured, and which, with the one destroyed at first, made seven, four of which were hatched. During the long period of hatch- ing, in the most inclement season, exposed to very severe weather, we resolved to run the risk of endea- vouring to protect the devoted bird. The first day we put up a branch or two over the spot she had chosen ; then a few more ; and during a pitiless night, a com plete awning was erected, consisting of a piece of mat- ting, which screened her from the incessant rain and wind, like an umbrella. During all these operations the bird continued to sit upon her nest, apparently conscious of the care and sympathy exerted in her behalf. It would thus appear, that with proper pre- caution, this bird may be managed with nearly as much freedom as the Common Domestic Fowl, and instead of being a rara avis in our yards, it might form a profitable and highly ornamental addition. The flesh of the young bird for the table is, in our opinion, exquisite ; much superior to that of the Turkey, resem- bling more that of the Common Pheasant. Although this bird be more independent of regular supplies of food being held up to it than other Domestic Poultry, yet, when young, the Chicks should be repeatedly attended to, and the same food which we have recom- mended before, namely, oat meal, a very little mois- tened, will be found very suitable for them. 248 GUINEA FOWL. WE purposely pass over the breeding and rearing of Guinea Fowl, with only a very few observations, our' experience being, that it is a bird which retains too much of its original wild nature to be bred and kept with advantage. It is easily made to forsake the nest, which the Hen secretes with great care and adroitness, generally in the midst of standing corn, so that, in most cases, it falls a sacrifice to the reaper's operations, or is destroyed when they are upon the field. We once reared, at the latter end of the month of September, a large flock of seventeen, under a Common Hen, from eggs got in such circumstances, the proper parent, being scared, having deserted them ; and we were most successful in bringing the whole brood to nearly the size of their foster mother, when a dis- temper, not understood, and which it baffled all our attempts to arrest, carried them off one by one, till at length the Hen, tired out, forsook the last three or four remaining birds, the strongest of the brood ; but, to our grief and disappointment, even these also became victims to the same fatal malady. Before the birds began to droop, they were very strong and promising ; but the lateness of the season must have been very trying j;o them, and most probably the cause of the illness, which proved so destructive. 249 DOMESTIC WATER FOWL. DUCKS. GEESE and Ducks are our most common domestic Water Fowl, and both may be reared with advantage, and, in our experience, without much trouble. Ducklings may be brought out either under a natural mother, or a Common Hen ; and, during the first week or two, should be managed in a manner similar to that recom- mended before for Turkeys and Common Fowls. On the second or third day, they acquire consider- able strength, and in a couple of weeks, are nearly independent of all care, running about, in all directions, after grubs and insects, if within reach. They should be kept from much exercise in water for fully three weeks, however, and ought not to be permitted to get wetted by rain, from which they suffer considerably at this tender age. There are various breeds of this most useful Fowl, amongst which may be mentioned the Aylesborough, the White or English, and the Dark Brown, approach- ing to the plumage of the Common Wild Duck. 250 DOMESTIC WATER FOWL — DUCKS. The presence of a small running stream of water, or a wholesome pond, is of course indispensable in the rearing and keeping of these birds to advantage, and without trouble, for without this they are miserable dirty looking objects ; while, on the contrary, nothing can exceed the interest which arises from looking at their droll evolutions, and beautiful gestures, in their own natural element. Ducks are profitable as layers of eggs, of which they deposit prodigious numbers, commencing early in spring, and seldom leaving off the operation, daily, till towards autumn; and although their eggs are not esteemed so highly as those of the Common Fowl, they are most useful in many domestic purposes. Their food may consist of the same materials as that already mentioned for other Poultry. Ducks may be housed at night in the same apart- ment with other Poultry, care being taken to protect them from the droppings of the birds perched upon the roosts above them, and a proper comfortable bed of straw strewed on the ground below, for the Ducks to rest upon ; the heat arising, and ascending to the other birds upon the roosts, we believe, benefits both. 251 DOMESTIC WATER FOWL. GEESE. As we have no great experience in the rearing of Geese, we shall quote from a very useful work, in two volumes, by R. W. DICKSON, M. D., London, 1805 : — " There are several distinct breeds of Geese kept in different places ; but the largest and most useful sort, whether for the purpose of food or feathers, is the com- mon breed. " In the choice of store Geese, care should always be taken to procure them as large in size as possible, and from places where they have been well kept. Geese, like most other birds, begin to lay in the spring months ; and the earlier this happens the better, as the price of early green Geese is generally high, and in some cases it may be possible to have a second brood. Both these purposes may be promoted by letting them be well fed with oats, grains, or some such kinds of food at the £52 DOMESTIC WATER FOWL — GEESE. period. The Goose generally lays from eight to twelve eggs. It may be known when Geese are about to lay, from straw being frequently picked up and carried about by them. The length of time of sitting is about thirty days. When Geese are inclined to sit, they generally show it, by remaining on their nest after laying a considerable time. In this case, a proper quan- tity of eggs, as from ten to twelve, should be placed, in the nests, and something put before them, so as to prevent the Geese from being much seen. They should also have plenty of food, sand, and water, near them, in order that they may not have to remain long off the nests, and in that way let the eggs be too much cooled. The Ganders should be left with them as guards. When the weather is warm, they generally hatch rather sooner than when it is cold. After the Goslings are hatched, the best method is to let them remain with the Goose, especially where they are strong, in some warm sunny place, that is well secured against the entrance of rats, and all other sorts of vermin, and which is properly supplied with water ; being well fed with the crumbs of bread, grits, wheat, and some chopped clivers. They should remain in this confinement until they are grown strong, and capable of following the Goose with ease ; they may then be put into a small field, or paddock, where the grass is short, till they are fit to be turned out with the Geese. When they are weakly, it is cus- tomary to feed them in the house, with bread, soaked in DOMESTIC WATER FOWL — GEESE. 253 milk, or a little barley-meal, &c. Where this is done, they should, however, always be put under the Goose again, immediately after such feeding, and handled as little as possible, warmth in this stage being the most essential article in rearing them. They should never be suffered, while very young, to go into the water, as the cold soon destroys them. " The practice in Lincolnshire, where vast numbers of these birds are annually produced, is for their nests to be made for them of straw, and confined, so as that the eggs cannot roll out when the Geese turn them, which they do every day. When near hatching, the shell is broken a little against the beak or nib of the Gosling, to give air, or to enable it to receive strength to throw off the shell at a proper time. " The time of plucking them is about the beginning of April, when the fine feathers of their breasts and backs should be gently and carefully plucked. Care must be taken not to pull or interrupt their down or pen feathers. " The quills should be pulled five out of a wing. They will bear pulling in thirteen or fourteen weeks again, or twice in a year: the feathers three times a-year, of the old Geese and Ganders, seven weeks from each pulling. The young Geese may be pulled once at thirteen or fourteen weeks old, but not quilled, being hatched in March. But when late in hatching, the brood Geese should not be plucked so soon as April, 254 DOMESTIC WATER FOWL — GEESE. but the month after. When well fed with barley and oats, they thrive and do better, and their feathers grow faster, and are better in quality than where it is omit- ted. They must constantly have plenty of grass and water. " In many parts of this fenny district, vast advantage is made by the frequent plucking of the Geese. At Pinchbeck, it is the practice to pluck them five times in the year, as at Lady-day, Midsummer, Lammas, Michaelmas, and Martinmas. The feathers of a dead Goose are worth 6d., three giving a pound. But pluck- ing alive does not yield more than 3d. a-head per an- num. Some wing them only every quarter, taking ten feathers from each Goose, which sell at 5s. a thousand. Plucked Geese pay in feathers Is. a head in Wildmore Fen. " In the fattening of Green Geese, care should be taken that a little green food be given, along with the oats or other grain, that may be employed for the pur- pose when they are put up, and that they be well supplied with water and sand* A fortnight or three weeks is long enough for this purpose, if they be well and regularly fed ; but, in the fattening of the older Geese, there will not be any necessity for the green food. The place in which they are confined, with this view, should neither be too light, nor too public in its situation, as they d,o not feed so well, where these points are not attended to. They should likewise be DOMESTIC WATER FOWL — GEESE. 255 at a distance, so as to be out of the hearing of the old or store Geese. " Besides the benefits that may be derived from Geese in the feathers and the birds as food, it seems not im- probable, but that they might be made to produce a con- siderable advantage in the way of manure, if managed under a system of constant littering with straw, fern, or some other substance of the same kind, as from the great quantity of grass they consume, the discharge in the night is very considerable." PRINTED BT W. H. LIZAES, EDINBUBOH. 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